#I think about I Saw The TV Glow almost every day!!!

[cattnappin]

This isn't normal. This isn't normal. This isn't how life is supposed to feel.

[ablog]

I saw the tv glow

And I'm properly traumatized

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (three)

requested here; (one); (two)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (the duff inspired) word count: 5.4k

You hadn’t planned for that kiss to happen the other day.

It was supposed to be all part of the game, of the plan.

You just wanted to learn things properly. Right? But you knew, you had wanted it, and worse, you had liked it.

God, what the hell were you doing?

He was Rafe Cameron. Cocky, rich, your nightmare with a reputation that should have sent you running in the opposite direction. And yet, here you were, feeling the ghost of his lips against yours, wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled back. If you hadn’t let the spell break.

"Focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head like you could shake him off too. You had bigger things to worry about—like Nate.

Remember Nate? The whole point of this was to get him to notice you, to finally realize that you were more than just the girl he studied with. You weren’t supposed to be getting caught up with Rafe Cameron’s sudden vulnerability or, God forbid, catching feelings for him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair as you turned down the street toward your apartment. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of Rafe stayed with you for hours, sneaking its way back in every time you thought you’d pushed it out for good.

What was it about him, anyway? He was hot, sure. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you sometimes, like he was seeing something deeper. Like there was more to this than either of you were willing to admit. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were starting to want him to see more.

By the time you reached your door, you had spiraled enough to know you needed a distraction. So you did what any girl in your situation would do: you grabbed your phone and texted Harper back.

You: Movie night better include wine. Lots of wine.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Harper <3:  “Already taken care of, babe. See you soon.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling a little better. It was exactly what you needed. Maybe after a few glasses of wine and some cheesy rom-coms, you’d finally stop thinking about that stupid kiss.

As you closed the door behind you and flopped onto your bed, your phone buzzed again. Expecting it to be Harper, you lazily reached for it, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Rafe’s name instead.

Rafe: got your notes ready for tomorrow? or should i just show up and charm my way through it?

You stared at the screen for a second, unsure whether to laugh or throw your phone across the room. Why did he always have to do this? Act like nothing had changed when everything felt different?

Not that you were any better.

Finally, you typed back.

You: “depends. can ur charm get you through an entire chapter on portuguese colonization?”

His reply came almost instantly. Like he’d been waiting for yours.

Rafe: “we both know my charm can get me through anything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile tugging at your lips.

You: “let’s not test that theory. see you tomorrow.”

You tossed your phone aside, willing yourself not to overthink the fact that just seeing his name pop up on your screen made your heart race.

You were going to get through this. Nate was your goal. This thing with Rafe was just a detour. A very distracting, very complicated detour that you’d handle... eventually.

But tonight? Tonight was for your girls, your movies, and drowning out the chaos in your head with as much wine as it took to stop thinking about blue eyes and stupid smirks.

Later that night, you found yourself sprawled out on Ava’s couch, surrounded by blankets and popcorn, watching some cheesy rom-com that Harper had picked out. The glow of the TV cast a soft light over the room, but your mind was still elsewhere. Even with your best friends beside you, laughing and making snide comments about the movie, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

It wasn’t just the kiss—although that had definitely been messing with your head lately—it was everything. The way he’d been acting, the things he’d said, the stupid nickname that you couldn’t seem to shake. Harper and Ava had a point, but they didn’t know Rafe like you did. Not anymore, at least. You’d seen sides of him recently that no one else had, and while you weren’t exactly sure what to make of it, there was something there. Something more than just the cocky rich boy everyone saw.

You sighed, reaching for another handful of popcorn, but Harper, ever the perceptive one, caught the look on your face before you could hide it.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, nudging your leg with her foot. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Yeah, you’ve barely roasted this movie,” Ava added, throwing a piece of popcorn at you. “That’s not like you.”

You didn't want to get into it, “Just tired, I guess. Long day.”

Harper wasn’t buying it, though. She turned the volume on the TV down and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Okay, spill. This is about Rafe, isn’t it?”

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “Can we not talk about him ?”

“Nope,” Harper said, yanking the pillow away. “Not until you tell us what’s going on. I know a liar when I see one."

Busted.

“Did something happen?”

You hesitated, glancing between the two of them. They were your best friends, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you. But the whole thing with Rafe felt complicated, like more than just a stupid crush. Still, you couldn’t keep it all bottled up forever.

“Fine,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “There was... a kiss.”

Harper’s jaw practically dropped. “A kiss? With Rafe?”

“When did this happen?” Ava demanded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“I was scared!” You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again as you thought back to that moment in the library, “He knew I never kissed anyone and offered.”

“Wait, what? Your first kiss was with Rafe freaking Cameron?”

Ava gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “He offered? What the hell does that even mean? Did he just, like, present his lips to you like some weirdo?”

You groaned, wishing you could shrink into the couch and disappear.

“It wasn’t like that, okay? We were talking, and it came up. I told him I hadn’t kissed anyone, and then he was all, ‘I can fix that,’ or something. It just... happened a few days later.”

“So, what was it like? Was it good? Did he use tongue? I need details, girl.”

Harper elbowed her. “Ava! Let her breathe, she’s clearly still processing.”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more as you fidgeted with a loose string on your sweater. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was good, okay? Really good. But it’s Rafe, and now everything’s weird, and I don’t know what to do.”

Harper’s expression softened,  “Okay, I’m trying to wrap my head around this. You’ve hated Rafe for, like, ever, right? And now, all of a sudden, you’re kissing him? What about Nate?”

“I know!” you groaned again, throwing your head back against the couch.

Ava looked like she was about to explode. “So... do you like him? Because it sounds like you’re starting to like him.”

“No! Maybe? I don’t know.” You buried your face in your hands. “I wasn’t supposed to like him. It wasn’t part of the plan. But then he had to go and be all... different. Like, he’s still Rafe, but sometimes he’s—I don’t know, sweet? Ugh, that sounds ridiculous.”

Harper sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Babe, if you’re getting all messed up over a guy like Rafe, this could be a problem.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. You didn’t want to like Rafe. He was the last person you should be catching feelings for. 

“Guys like him? They’ll pull you in, mess with your head, and leave you confused as hell.”

“I know,” you said, hating how true that sounded. “But it’s not just that. There’s something else. Like, when we’re alone, he’s— I don’t know. He lets his guard down, and I see a side of him that I don’t think anyone else does. He's weirdly honest."

Harper raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not catching feelings?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t even know anymore. I thought this was just a stupid kiss, but now it feels like everything’s different. And it’s so dumb because I should be focused on Nate!"

Ava and Harper exchanged a glance, both of them looking concerned. Harper was the first to speak.

“Okay, maybe this is a sign you need to figure out what you really want. Do you want to keep chasing Nate, or... do you want to see where things go with Rafe?”

You blinked, the question hitting you harder than you expected. What did you want? Nate had always been the plan—nice, safe, uncomplicated Nate. 

It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His stupid grin, the way he’d tease you but also get serious for like, two seconds, just long enough to make you question everything.

You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face, “This was a terrible mistake.”

Harper crossed her arms, studying you. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Call him.”

“What?!” You sat up, heart racing. “No way. I can’t just call him out of nowhere.”

“Yes, you can,” Ava chimed in, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Here’s the test—if he picks up right away, it means he’s been thinking about you too. If he doesn’t? Then maybe he’s just playing games.”

You stared at them like they’d just suggested jumping off a cliff. “Are you guys serious? There’s no way I’m doing that. You're not serious."

Harper smirked, grabbing your phone off the table and holding it out to you. “Do it. Right now. Trust me, if he cares, he’ll pick up.”

What kind of fucked up science was that? Rafe? Liking you? It was ridiculous. There was no way. Not when he'd been with so many girls, kissed even more, and never gave you a second glance. You were just...there.

Your stomach twisted in knots. “What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m weird for calling at night? What if I just— explode from embarrassment?”

Ava waved her hand dismissively. “If he doesn’t answer, then you know where you stand. But if he does... well, that’s another story. And I highly doubt you’ll explode. Just call him and see.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your phone like it was about to bite you. It felt reckless, terrifying even. But you were curious too—what would happen if you actually did it? Would he care? Would he answer?

“Fine,” you muttered, grabbing the phone from Harper and quickly finding Rafe’s name in your contacts before you could change your mind.

Ava grinned, leaning in. “Ooh, this is gonna be good.”

“I thought you hated him—"

“Call him!”

You hit call, holding your breath as the phone rang once, twice—

And then, to your absolute horror, it stopped. He picked up.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice came through, “Everything okay?”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both staring at you like this was the most exciting thing to ever happen. You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, like you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes freaking out about calling him.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, cringing at how awkward you sounded. “I just... wanted to see if you were ready for tomorrow’s study session.”

Lame. So, so lame.

Rafe chuckled softly. “You called me at night to ask about studying? I didn’t know I was that irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”

He laughed again, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Too late. Anyway, I’m ready for tomorrow. Was studying really the reason you called?”

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both nodding furiously, encouraging you to say something—anything that wasn’t study-related.

“Well... maybe not just that,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

There was a pause on the other end, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, more serious. “I’m glad you called.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just muttered, “Yeah, me too.”

There was another moment of silence, like you were both trying to figure out what to say next.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Rafe said, his voice a little lower, almost... warmer? “Night.”

“Night,” you replied, and then the call ended.

You dropped your phone onto the couch, staring at it like it had just turned into a bomb.

Harper squealed. “He picked up right away! And he was flirty! Oh my God, he likes you!”

Ava clapped her hands, bouncing on the couch. “I knew it! He’s totally into you. Nevermind what we said earlier. Rafe Cameron is into you. We were wrong. Scratch the whole 'he’s just messing with your head' thing. He’s definitely catching feelings.”

You scowled, “Where’s your backbone? Five minutes ago, you were all, ‘Rafe’s trouble, don’t fall for it,’ and now you’re practically shipping us?”

Harper shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, but that was before he picked up right away and sounded all soft. That’s different, babe.”

“Exactly!” Ava chimed in. “Nate who?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. He’s... safe. And uncomplicated. Why am I even entertaining this idea of Rafe?”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “Because safe doesn’t make your heart race. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you stay up all night overthinking. If you were so into Nate, you wouldn’t be calling Rafe at night. Or letting him kiss you!”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. They had a point, as annoying as it was. Nate might’ve been the goal, but Rafe was what had your head spinning. You groaned again, flopping back against the couch.

Sure, maybe he’d been acting a little off lately. Like, sometimes he’d actually ask you how your day was or show up when he knew you’d be around. You didn’t think much of it, though. That’s just how it was with guys like Rafe—he probably wanted something, or maybe he was just bored.

You huffed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “It’s just so stupid. He’s Rafe. He’s... ugh, he’s complicated, and I don’t even know if he’s serious, or if he’s just bored, or what. And now I’ve kissed him, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—”

“And now you’re realizing that maybe Nate isn’t what you really want after all,” Harper finished.

You sighed, hugging a pillow to your chest. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He’d flirt, he’d flash that stupid grin, and then he’d move on like nothing ever happened. Why would you be different? 

“Easy. You figure out what you want. Not what Nate wants, not what Rafe wants. You. And until then, just... enjoy. No one said you had to decide everything right now.”

Harper nodded in agreement, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah. Take it slow. And for tonight, let’s just not overthinking every little thing, okay?”

Yet, you thought about him all night. You’d seen the way he treated other girls. He’d throw them those lazy smiles, the ones that practically screamed I’ll forget your name by tomorrow, and it always seemed to work.

They all fell for it—why wouldn’t they? Rafe was good at getting what he wanted, and he never stuck around long enough for things to get messy. You? You were invisible up until recently. He only paid attention when he felt like pissing you off. Your friends had to be reading too much into things.

This was Rafe. The same Rafe who was impossible to figure out, who never took anything seriously—least of all you. There was no way he liked you. 

But the next day came way too fast, and you were paying for it. Hard.

You groaned as you dragged yourself into the library, sunglasses on like they were going to somehow shield you from the pounding headache.

Harper and Ava had insisted on one more glass of wine, which of course, turned into two. And now, you were here, praying Rafe wouldn’t notice that you felt like death.

As you slumped into the chair across from him, he immediately raised an eyebrow, “Rough night?”

You gave him a look, your head already throbbing too much for his sarcasm. “Don’t even start, Cameron.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your state. “Wow, I can smell the regret from here. You look like you partied with a bottle of tequila and lost.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It was wine, thank you very much. And yeah, it was a little too much.”

He chuckled softly, flipping open his notebook. “A little? You look like you just survived a war zone. Was the study session that boring to look forward to?”

“Ha ha, so funny,” you muttered, wincing as you reached for your bag. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Barely.” He tilted his head, clearly enjoying every second of it. “I’m impressed you made it at all. Should I have brought a bucket? You know, just in case?”

You glared at him from behind your sunglasses. “I hate you so much right now.”

Rafe just grinned, unfazed. “Trust me, it’s mutual. But seriously, you need water or something? You’re about two seconds away from face-planting on that table.”

You bit your lip, knowing he was right but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Still, your mouth felt like a desert, and the thought of anything cold and hydrating sounded like heaven.

“Maybe… a coffee?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Huh? No?”

“You’re not drinking coffee before you eat.”

You squinted at him, thoroughly annoyed. “Rafe, I’m hungover, not five years old.”

He just raised an eyebrow, clearly not swayed.

“Hungover means your brain’s working even worse than normal, so yeah, I’m pulling the adult card here. You need food before coffee.”

You rolled your eyes, regretting it instantly as your head throbbed harder. “Fine. I’ll get food after the coffee.”

He shook his head, already getting up. “Nope. I’m grabbing you a bagel or something.”

“Rafe, seriously—” you started, but he was already walking away, not even bothering to let you finish.

You slumped back in your chair, groaning under your breath. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and your stomach was twisting in a way that wasn’t just from the hangover. But it was so typical of him to boss you around, like he knew what was best for you. He seemed almost too serious about all this, like it wasn’t just about breakfast or caffeine. Was he actually… worried?              

He was being so over-the-top about something so simple. Maybe he noticed things you didn’t even realize were slipping—how little you’d been eating, how tired you always seemed. You didn’t want him to worry, to get so wrapped up in how you were doing. But the fact that he did… 

Rafe returned, dropping a bagel in front of you. “Eat. Then you can have your coffee.”

You blinked at the bagel, caught off guard. “You actually got me food?”

He gave you a look. “You really thought I wouldn’t? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A pain in my ass?” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it. You unwrapped the bagel, taking a cautious bite, and, annoyingly, it actually helped. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Now, once you finish that, we’ll get started on actual studying. You might wanna take those sunglasses off too. It’s not that bright in here.”

“Stop being so smug about it,” you grumbled, but you took another bite of the bagel, your headache easing just a little.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out like he owned the place.

“Hey, if you’re gonna drink like that, you should at least have someone who can take care of you after.”

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat. “Is this your way of saying you care?”

“Eat your bagel.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your chest. Why was he always like this? One minute he was the biggest pain, and the next, he was sweet? You took another bite of the bagel, trying to ignore the way his comment made your stomach do a weird little flip.

Rafe just watched you, arms crossed, looking smug as ever. "I'm not saying anything," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "But you did call me last night."

You nearly choked on your bagel. "That was for studying!"

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. "Oh, right. You totally call guys at night to talk about history."

You threw a balled-up napkin at him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Don't start with me, Cameron. You texted me first!"

"Fair enough," He caught the napkin effortlessly, still grinning, like teasing you was the highlight of his day. He was holding his hands up in surrender, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. "Don’t know if it’s the kiss or maybe you’re just starting to realize I'm not all bad."

You scoffed, trying to brush off how much that actually hit home.

"Please. You're still an entitled jerk, Rafe. One kiss doesn’t change that."

But the truth was, maybe it did change something. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. And now, sitting here with him being all unexpectedly considerate, it was getting harder to pretend like there wasn’t something going on.

“So it hasn’t been keeping you up at night?”

“Why would it? It was just a kiss. Happens all the time, right?”

His smirk widen, “So I didn’t get your panties in a twist?”

You were going to throw a book at his face.

"You’re so full of yourself," you muttered, trying to act unbothered, but your pulse quickened.

Rafe leaned in a little closer, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m just saying, it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ with the way you keep getting flustered. You sure it didn’t mean anything?”

You narrowed your eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

“What do you want me to say, Rafe? That I’m totally falling for you? That I can’t stop thinking about the kiss? Because that’s not happening.”

He chuckled softly, leaning back again, but something shifted in his expression. He was still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity now, almost like he was testing the waters.

“Good to know. Guess I’ll just keep doing my thing then.”

“Your thing? What, being an annoying, arrogant jerk?” you shot back, though there was less bite in your tone than usual.

Rafe’s lips twitched, “I’d hate to think I’m keeping you up at night.”

Ugh. Why was he like this? Why was this working on you?

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay focused on the whole reason you were here in the first place: studying, Nate, anything but this. But the way Rafe was looking at you right now, like he could see through all the walls you put up... yeah, it was messing with your head again.

"Can we just study now?" you grumbled, flipping open your textbook, praying the conversation would shift before your cheeks got any redder. "I didn’t drag myself here to talk about your ridiculous fantasies."

His grin softened into something more genuine, and he shook his head, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Let’s get started before your brain melts from that hangover.”

But as you pulled out your notes, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. And worse, you knew your heart was doing the same—stupid fluttering and all.

There was something about this back-and-forth with him that was starting to feel... different. And maybe, just maybe, that scared you more than you were willing to admit.

As the two of you dove into the study session, you tried—really tried—to focus on the material in front of you. But every time he leaned in a little closer or cracked a joke that made you roll your eyes, your mind wandered back to that kiss. To the way he looked at you when no one else was around. To the fact that, as much as you hated to admit it, Rafe Cameron was making you feel something you hadn’t expected.

“Do you remember that bonfire when we were sixteen?” he asked all of a sudden.

You raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Which one? There were like, a million bonfires.”

“The one where you dumped your drink in my face.”

Your hand froze halfway to your mouth. Oh. That bonfire. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memory came rushing back, clear as day.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something you forget. One minute I was talking to you, and the next, I was soaking wet with a face full of—what was it? Lemonade?”

“Spiked lemonade,” you corrected, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You deserved it.”

“Deserved it?” he echoed, leaning forward, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “I asked if you wanted to hang out by the water. How’s that deserving a drink to the face?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the old annoyance bubble up again. “You asked me to hang out after you and your friends had spent the whole night making fun of me."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, maybe we were a little rough back then. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a dick that night.”

“You were always a dick,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind your words. Sixteen-year-old you had despised him and his cocky attitude. 

He smirked, “You were so pissed off. Your face was all red, and you were shaking with anger, like you couldn’t believe I’d even dared to speak to you.”

“You had it coming.”

“I probably did,” he agreed, a softer look crossing his face. “But I remember thinking, even back then, you were different. You didn’t take shit from anyone.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “Wait, are you actually complimenting me right now? What is happening?”

Rafe just grinned, leaning back again, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “I’m just saying, you’ve always had more fight in you.”

Your stomach did that weird little flip again, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the crumbs left on the table. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such an ass, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“I think that’s why I liked messing with you so much.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “You always pushed back.”

You bit your lip, not sure how to respond to that. The Rafe you remembered from back then was all arrogance and teasing, but this... this was different. It was like he was admitting that he’d seen you in a way no one else had back then. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching cut your conversation short. You glanced up, thinking it might just be another student passing by, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Nate walking toward you and Rafe.

Rafe’s smirk faded instantly when he spotted him approaching.

“Hey,” Nate greeted with a casual smile, though his eyes flicked quickly between you and Rafe, “Didn’t know you guys studied here too.”

You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal even though your brain was racing. “Yeah, uh, just catching up on some work.”

Nate’s smile wavered slightly as his gaze lingered on Rafe, then back to you. “Mind if I join? I was just gonna find a spot to get some work done, but...” His voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

For a second, you were torn. Nate was here, right in front of you—the guy you’d been chasing for months, the one who was supposed to be the plan. But Rafe was sitting across from you.

He leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms with that signature smirk creeping back onto his face. “Yeah, sure, the more, the merrier.”

You shot him a look, silently pleading with him not to make this worse, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation.

Nate pulled out a chair, setting his bag down, “What’re you working on?” he asked, glancing between you and Rafe.

Before you could answer, Rafe spoke up, again, “Just a little review. Nothing too complicated, right?” His eyes flicked to you, daring you to answer.

You swallowed hard, feeling both their gazes on you. “Yeah, just going over some notes. We’re almost done, actually.”

Nate’s eyes lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than necessary, like he was sizing him up. “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll just... grab a spot over there.” 

“You do that.”

“Rafe.” you grumbled under your breath, kicking him under the table.

"You wanna grab lunch after? I was gonna head to that new sandwich place, and figured you might want to come."

For a split second, you hesitated. Lunch with Nate was the safe, easy option—exactly what you’d been trying to hold onto. But the way Rafe was watching you now... Nate’s invitation wasn’t just about lunch. It was a claim, a reminder that he was the one you were supposed to be into.

"I, um—” you started, but the words were stuck in your throat.

You’d just spent the last half hour trying to convince yourself that Rafe didn’t matter. That this whole thing with him wasn’t a big deal. But now, with Nate standing right here, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting.

Rafe stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Well, looks like you’ve got plans," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at you, before grabbing his notebook. "Catch you later, I guess."

Before you could say anything, he walked away, his footsteps heavy as he left the library. You stared after him, your heart doing this weird thing where it felt like it was both racing and sinking at the same time.

Nate raised an eyebrow, watching Rafe go. "That guy’s... intense," he said, his tone light, but you could tell he was fishing for something.

You forced a smile, "Yeah, that’s Rafe for you."

But even as you said it, your mind wasn’t on Nate. It was still stuck on Rafe—on the way he’d looked at you before he left, like maybe he’d been hoping you wouldn’t just go along with Nate’s plan. Like maybe he’d wanted you to choose something different.

"So, lunch?" Nate asked again, his smile back in place, but it didn’t feel the same. Not anymore.

You swallowed hard, nodding automatically. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”

But as you followed him out of the library, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you’d just walked away from something important. 

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart

Warnings: weed consumption, mentions of death, mentions of sex, allusions to smut. this is mostly written from reader's pov, Steve's pov is only at the ending

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You step into a new territory and test the waters that Steve had already been dragged into.

Word count: 5k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult I know you're sick of me constantly saying this BUT thanks for working on this series with me hehe

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♡

The lights that hang above the shelves in the living room illuminate the darkened room, casting a soft yellow glow on everything. The TV screen lights up brightly as the killer in the movie shows up dramatically again. The sound is low and no one is paying attention to the horror movie that you have all seen multiple times already. The rain paddles against the windows and the lightning crashes through the sky every few seconds or so, though no thunder has rumbled yet, making you feel relieved. The room smells like takeout and weed, dirty plates litter the coffee table but no one cares about that yet. 

A big cloud of smoke lingers in the room as Eddie and Robin pass the joint back and forth, the latter talking his ear off about the date she had gone on with Vickie the night before, while your eyes are stuck on Michael Myers on the screen, taking the joint from Eddie when he offers it to you, you place it between your lips, squinting your eyes as you take a drag and inhale it deeply. 

You can feel his eyes on you, you can feel them everywhere, on your face, on your upper body, on your bare legs, they’re burning into your skin and you’re now not as blind as you were days back when you thought that you were imagining things, that every slightest glance and touch from his were feeding you lies – that his touches were accidental and his glances meant nothing. But you were wrong, so very wrong. 

For days, your mind has been plaguing you with thoughts about him, and it’s nothing new, really, but it was different than usual. Because before the dinner at Joyce’s and Hopper’s place, he had never given you anything to overthink about, to make yourself feel delusional over. Steve had never touched you before, at least not like that. He had never placed his hand on your waist, he had never brushed his knuckles against yours, he had never looked at you the way he did that night and he certainly never commented on the clothes you wear. 

It drove you crazy, and it made you believe that he somehow figured you out, that he found out about your feelings and decided to torture you by teasing you with touches that he knew you wished had a deeper meaning. But he wouldn’t do that, especially not after your conversation weeks ago, not when he was doing everything to keep the peace. He wouldn’t do that – maybe King Steve would’ve done something like this, but not this Steve – not even when he still holds hatred for you. 

Steve teased you, not accidentally, not unintended. He did it openly, because he wanted to for whatever reason and you only realized it today, when you walked through his front door behind Eddie who held the bags of takeout, you were met with the same teasing look in Steve’s eyes you saw that night. He licked his lips and let his eyes run up and down your body so shamelessly that it almost threw you off because where was this all coming from? 

When did he go from hating your guts, from arguing every chance he got to whatever this is. 

Not only did he look at you like he was ready to flirt, he also placed his hand on your lower back when he led you into the living room earlier – and as though that wasn’t enough to make you crumble, he also leaned in to whisper ‘cute skirt, Blondie.’ 

Cute skirt!? His husky voice and those words kept repeating themselves like a broken record ever since they fell from his lips, they made you think so hard that you dissociated while eating the fries that you’ve been craving all day, missing the conversation between your friends and half of the movie that you watched before Eddie put on Halloween. Only the touch of Steve’s hand pulled you back into reality, you almost jumped from your seat when you felt his hand on your knee when he very obviously pretended to reach over you to grab the bottle of ketchup with a smirk on his face. That was evidence enough for you to realize that all his touches were intended and he did want to tease you, but not for the reason you thought. 

Why? You still don’t know. 

You’re pretty sure that he isn’t attracted to you, at least not in the way you are to him. 

But if he wants to play this game, then you certainly won’t pass up on the opportunity to tease him back a little, though testing the waters first – because you absolutely won’t make a fool of yourself in front of him. 

You have to take it slow until you’re completely sure that he is doing what you think he’s doing. 

You glance at Eddie, his eyes are rimmed with redness, a lazy smile plays on his lips, his eyes are stuck on the screen but he is so far gone in his mind, he is not paying attention to anything anymore, not Robin’s rambling, not the movie and certainly not to you and Steve. 

Robin’s hair is sprawled across the pillow, she looks up at the ceiling, the joint now back between her lips but she’s still rambling. 

They won’t notice anything. 

You take a sip of your drink, eying Steve from the side, and he is already looking at you, he is looking at you in a way that would drive your teenage self up the wall – you’d be a blushing and giddy mess thinking about it for the rest of the day, daydreaming about things that would never even happen. But you’re not a teenager anymore, his glances and touches still make you blush – but you’re not stupid and you certainly don’t daydream about things that aren’t even there. 

You still don’t know why is he looking at you that way but the little sweet voice in your head is telling you that he might have harbored a tiny little crush after seeing you in a stupid dress while the other voice is telling you that Steve Harrington wants to fuck you. These voices might belong to the ghosts of Chrissy and Billy because in no way would you ever think that Steve could ever feel anything more than hatred for you. 

How will he react if you tease him back a little? 

You don’t even have to make it obvious, you can play it off, you can play anything off. 

“Do you guys want something sweet?” Steve asks, “I got ice cream in the freezer.” 

“What else do you have?” Eddie slurs, something that makes Robin giggle.

“Uh, M&M’s, Reese’s, Sour gummies,” Steve mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he looks up, thinking of what else he got in his cabinet, “I got some chips too.”

Eddie looks at Steve, pointing at him with his ringed finger, “I want it all.” 

Steve snorts at him and at the dazed look on his face, “alright. I’m just gonna clean this up first,” he points to the mess on the table. 

Perfect.

“I’ll help.” 

His eyes meet yours, a slight smirk tugs at his lips, “you sure you wanna get your hands dirty, Blondie?” 

“Oh, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” you smirk and break eye contact, rising up from the seat and swallowing down the nervousness. 

The space between the coffee table and the couch isn’t exactly big, and it gives you the perfect opportunity to make the first little step. With an innocent look on your face, you glance at him one more time, before you turn your back to him, bending over in front of him to pick up the dirty plates. Your heart is pounding and your cheeks are already burning but you pay no mind to that. 

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, you can hear it.

Should you even be surprised? His eyes almost bulged out of his skull when your skirt rode up after you just sat down earlier, his eyes were glued on your bare thighs the whole goddamn time and you saw it and yet your heart skips a beat at his reaction just now. 

You’re aware of how short your skirt is and that all it takes is for you to bend down a slight bit more for him to see more than just your thighs, a little further down and he will be able to see your ass and your panties. 

You bite back the smirk as you stack up the dirty plates, taking your sweet time with it. You can feel his eyes on your body and it takes everything in you not to turn around to look at his face but your little plan backfires when you suddenly feel his hands on your hips and his breath on your shoulder. You freeze. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, “it’s so tight in here.”

Blood rushes to your face and your stomach fills with butterflies. His touch and his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

This is bad. This is so very bad. 

You heard the mischief in his voice and his touch still lingers, he doesn’t need to take that long to squeeze past you. 

You don’t know what’s gotten into him or you, it might be the weed in your system or just the spur of the moment but as you pick up all the plates, you take a step back and press yourself against him, only for a one… or two seconds but long enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours, long enough to feel his hand squeezing your hip for a single second, long enough to hear him sucking in another sharp breath. 

And then, you step away from him like nothing happened, with innocence in your eyes, you look over your shoulder, “you’re right, it is really tight.” 

You see the way his lips part a little, the way his eyes darken and the way he clenches his jaw. He is angry that you are not falling for his teasing, that you are doing the same to him that he does to you. 

You walk into the kitchen and carrying the dishes over to the sink, you put them down and place your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes, only now noticing how fast your heart is beating and how clammy your hands are, you give yourself a moment to calm down before you reach for the dish soap and the sponge after you turn on the water.

Flirting is nothing new to you and you’re certainly not shy about it, not anymore. 

Billy was your best friend, and if there’s something he was good at, then it was flirting and taking home girls. He taught you how to be more confident, how to embrace your sensuality and he taught you how to flirt. 

Losing your best friend took a toll on you and you couldn’t stand to be in Hawkins when every place you had gone to, reminded you of him, so you left for a little while. You spent two months in Indianapolis and stayed with your sister. You started going out, parties your sister had dragged you to, clubs and downtown bars and you had fun. For the first time in your life, you were approached by men, they flirted with you and that felt… good. You let your guard down when you were with them, you didn’t feel the need to hide yourself from them, they wouldn’t stay in your life for longer than a night, you didn’t have to fear them leaving or hurting you, there was no attachment, no connection or anything deeper between you than lust, you could be yourself in those few hours you spend with them. 

They made you feel something other than grief, sadness and heartbreak. They were nothing but strangers to you but you felt something in those nights you spent in their beds, their touches brought you back to life… even if only temporarily. 

You are used to flirting, you are used to teasing, it’s an easy game to you… with strangers. But Steve Harrington? He makes you nervous, he makes your heart race like crazy, he burns you with only his glances, and his touches make you feel like you have been kissed by something out of this world. He is different, he is no meaningless man in your life, he is not someone you would kick out of your bed after taking from him what you wanted, he is not someone you could easily leave behind and never look back to again. No, Steve holds your heart in the palm of his hand, he left a tear in your soul, he is the someone you would do anything for and that changes everything. You can’t treat him like you treated them because he is special, every little interaction with him, sets your heart on fire. 

“Jesus, Blondie!” Steve’s voice sounds through the kitchen, making you flinch in surprise, “use less dish soap, one drop is enough!” 

With furrowed brows you look down at all the foam in the sink. It’s not even bad. 

You turn around, glaring at the man and the tone in his voice. 

He shakes his head at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he walks towards you. 

“Are you washing the dishes or me!?” You growl at him, ignoring the tension that still lingers between the two of you. 

Steve chuckles as he stops beside you, raising his hands up in surrender, “you didn’t have to do it, don’t blame it on me.”

You turn back to the plate you were washing, scraping the sponge against it harshly as you try not to look at him, which turns out to be just another challenge – he inches closer to you, breathing down your neck and staring at you. You throw the sponge down and reach for the lever, not noticing the way his eyes widen a little or how he reaches his hand out. 

“Wait careful with t–” he gets cut off by the water that starts streaming from the broken lever. 

“Fuck!” You curse loudly, followed by a gasp when the cold water sprinkles all over your neck and your chest, you throw the plate into the sink and reach for the lever again but Steve grabs your hand, not letting you turn it off the way you want to, he is trying to move to it into a different direction, it only confuses you even more and his touch doesn’t help either.

“Hold still!” Steve snaps at you. 

Your whole chest is already wet from all the water you have been hit with and his angry voice irritates you. 

“Why don’t you get drenched huh!?” 

With a loud sigh, he lets go and you almost start raging. You lean forward, grabbing the lever with both hands when you suddenly feel him behind you, his chest against your back, his whole body pressed against yours as he reaches his arms around you, placing his both hands on top of yours, the water now getting all over the both of you as his now wet fingers handle the broken lever. 

You hear his groan as the water hits him in the face when he leans over your shoulder and he grips your hand tighter. 

And then, the water stops sprinkling and the only sound that continues to fill the room is the rain that still rolls down the windows and your heavy breathing. 

Your chest is rising up and down heavily and so is his, you can feel it against your back, and you can feel his breath on your neck and your shoulder, and you now feel it all by tenfold, thanks to your wet skin, it sends chills all over. You can still feel his hands on top of yours, his much bigger hands that cover yours fully. Your eyes are glued on them and the way their fingers trace your own for a very short moment. 

Your heart is beating so wildly in your chest that you fear that he might hear it. 

You can feel the water dripping down your shoulder, not the one from your hair but the water from his face. 

Despite the nervousness in your chest, you slowly pull your hands away and turn around to face him, only for a gasp threatening to fall from your lips when you notice how close he actually is, how close he had never been before, not even in Joyce’s kitchen, last week. Your chest is almost pressed against his, his face only inches away, lips so close that you can feel his breath on yours. You’re surprised when he doesn’t move his hands away, letting them fall on the counter and your sides. 

His hazel eyes stare into yours so intensely that it almost knocks the breath out of you, the look in them making you feel hot all over your body that you don’t even feel the cold water seeping through your white shirt any longer. 

Strands of his hair hang in front of his eyes, water dripping from them and rolling down his cheek, your eyes follow the drops that lead to his lips, making you gulp when you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him or even just to touch his lips with your fingers – you dig your nails into your wet palms.

You don’t even notice how Steve grips the edges of the counter so tightly to the point that his knuckles turn white, but you notice the way his eyes move down to your chest and to your now see-through shirt, the lacy black bra being on full display now… almost. 

You are both breathing heavily, still, whether it’s because of the shock or something else now – you feel the tension, it’s so heavy, heavier than before and it’s making your insides churn in a way that weakens you. 

Neither of you say anything, you are too busy staring at each other, you are too busy wanting him more and more. 

This is not enough. 

How could this ever be enough? 

You have always wanted this, to be this close, to feel his touch, to find out what it’s like to kiss him, to feel him. 

This isn’t fair… This isn’t fair to you. Because this is only making things so much harder for you.

You know you have to snap out of it, even when he makes no move to pull away, to stop staring, to let go of the counter and step away from your body. 

You have to snap out of it or else you will do something that you will regret for the rest of your life. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, you ignore the beating of your heart, you ignore the shakiness in your hands and you blink as you tilt your head up, looking back into his eyes again.

“Lego head,” you whisper shakily, “the water stopped.”

He snaps out of his stupor, blinking and clearing his throat as he averts his gaze. 

He steps away and you make a move to escape this, to escape him but neither of you have noticed just how messy the situation has actually gotten – the water didn’t just sprinkle all over the both of you, it soaked the ground beneath your feet, making the tiles slippery enough for you to lose control and almost take the fall. Almost. 

A gasp tears from your lips when Steve’s hand grabs at your waist and the other reaches for the counter behind you again. Out of instinct, you lift your hand and grab his arm to hold onto him, steadying him as well as he slipped too. He lets go of your waist, gripping the counter with both hands just like he did seconds ago, caging you in completely. He isn’t only close anymore, he is pressed against you completely – his chest flush against yours, his nose bumping into yours causing you to let out another soft gasp. 

And then, you both freeze again. 

You blink. He blinks. Neither of you make a move. 

He looks down at your lips, causing your heart to skip so strongly that you feel it in your whole chest and even your throat. 

“Shit, Blondie.” 

His voice is so low and deep that it makes you shudder, your blood rushing to more than just your face now. 

“I didn’t know you were such a clutz,” he murmurs, shakily as his eyes get stuck on your chest again. 

He is nervous, just like you are, you can tell by the sound of his voice. 

You stare at him, struggling to find your words.

How can you when he looks at you that way? 

As you stand there, caged in by his strong arms, staring up at the man that is much taller and bigger than you, something that makes him all the more attractive, you feel yourself not only longing for his heart but also his body… on top of yours. His much bigger hands on your bare body, his lips on your skin, him inside of you… You are fucked. You are so utterly and completely fucked. 

Steve Harrington could do anything with you, and he is not even aware of the powers he holds over you. 

Footsteps echo through the hallway, causing yours and his eyes to widen and he quickly pulls away from you, careful not to slip again. You pull your hands back, now holding onto the counter yourself. 

Eddie and Robin come rushing into the room just as Steve steps far enough away from you. 

They both halt in their tracks, gasping at the sight of the two of you all soaked from the water. They stare with wide eyes before they turn to look at each other, holding back only for two seconds before they burst into laughter. 

You’re not sure if the sight is really that funny or if they’re just high enough to laugh about anything. 

Eddie bends over, holding his stomach as he continues laughing while pointing between the two of you, Robin holding onto his shoulder as her giggles sound through the kitchen. 

You press your lips together and clench your jaw as you look over at Steve, who nods at the both of them with an annoyed look on his face. 

“What the hell happened!?” Eddie asks through his laughter. 

His voice snaps you out from the daze you were just in… and thank god. 

With a glare, you keep your eyes on Steve, “this fucker didn’t tell me that his sink was jammed and that a little bit of a force can break the lever.”

Steve groans, though not looking at you, he wipes his face as he steps away, “right, blame it on me for your sudden force.” 

He walks out of the kitchen, brushing past Eddie and Robin who stop laughing when he gives them a deadly glare, the one you’re throwing at his back as he leaves to go upstairs, probably to get changed while you stand there with your soaked shirt. 

You carefully step away from the puddle of water in front of you, making your way over to the kitchen island to grab some of the napkins. You dry your face off first, not even bothering with your shirt. 

Despite their amused faces, your friends walk over to you, wanting to help. 

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles as he grabs a napkin, he gives you a smirk, “who got you this wet, Sweetheart?” 

You raise your head up, glaring at your best friend who starts chuckling again. 

“This is porn material right there,” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you as he points at your white shirt, but he is not even looking, even though your bra is very visible through the material now – what a gentleman. 

Robin chuckles, “should’ve kept the bra off, babe.” 

Your jaw drops as you stare at them with a stunned expression on your face, “pervs!” 

Robin keeps on chuckling as she walks over the cabinets, searching for clean kitchen towels. Eddie steps closer to you, patting your face dry with the napkins, which only makes you giggle when his brows knit together in concentration. 

Eddie’s eyes flash with amusement as he keeps pressing the napkin against your cheek, shaking his head at your laughter. 

“What’s so funny, smiley?” 

You snort at the nickname, and open your mouth to reply when Steve walks back into the room, his face now dry, hair still wet but no longer dripping. He’s wearing a different shirt now and he holds towels and a sweater in his hands, halting in his tracks, he looks between you and Eddie – his eyes flash with something that you can’t read, his face hardens and he clenches his jaw, you don’t know why but the expression causes your laughter to die down.

“Here,” Steve mumbles, tearing his gaze away from the both of you, he looks at the ground as he makes his way over to you, “those napkins won’t do much.” 

He hands you the towels and then his sweater. 

“And take your shirt off, Blondie,” he orders, “you can wear my sweater.” 

Your chest warms at his words and your heart flutters, and it only makes you feel irritated – this means nothing, this isn’t special, you aren’t special. He’d give his sweater to anyone under these circumstances. 

“Thanks,” you mumble as you put the sweater on the counter, using the soft white towel to dry yourself off first. 

Eddie steps away from you, throwing the napkin into the trash before he makes his way over to Steve’s snack drawer, completely ignoring the puddle of water. 

“Dude, you could clean this up,” Robin mumbles, pointing at the mess on the floor. 

Eddie scrunches his nose up, “why don’t you clean it up?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at them, “I got this, I’ll clean it up.” 

Eddie starts rummaging through the drawer, picking out snacks as Robin turns around to look at you, and at Steve who stares at you with his hands on his hips. 

The shirt sticks to your body uncomfortably, goosebumps litter your skin from the cold water that seeps through the thin material, you want it off immediately. 

You take the sweater, still holding the towel close against your chest, you look up at Steve, “I’m gonna go change…” 

He nods, “yeah, you can uh… use the bathroom downstairs or mine, whatever you want.” 

You ignore the burning in your cheeks, the pounding in your heart as you brush past him and leave the kitchen, making your way into the bathroom. Your friend’s chatter fades away as you close the door behind you, locking it, a shaky sigh falls from your lips as you press your back against it. You close your eyes, giving yourself a moment to just breathe. 

What the hell just happened? 

With shaky legs, you walk towards the sink, dropping the towel and the sweater on the counter before you finally take a look in the mirror, only to gasp when you see just how much you can actually see through your shirt. You grow flustered knowing that Steve could see you like this. 

You groan in embarrassment, reaching for the hem of your shirt, you peel it off your body, replacing it with his sweater – something that fills you with warmth the moment the soft material touches your skin, your heart skips a beat when you look back at your reflection, taking in the sight of his sweater on your body.

You swallow the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by fixing your hair – you won’t let your mind go there, you won’t let yourself think too deeply about anything. This is just a sweater. And yet, your heart won’t stop racing and you can’t deny how such a small thing can make you feel so… comforted. 

When you return into the kitchen, you find it empty, the water puddle on the floor already gone but the dirty plates are still in the sink – you surely won’t risk getting wet again. You turn around and make your way over into the living room, where Eddie and Robin are back in their previous positions, snacking on Doritos. 

Steve is lying on the couch with his arm behind his back, the remote in his hand as he flips through the channels. 

You tug at the sleeves of his sweater, suddenly feeling shy as you walk into the room, wearing something of his. 

You don’t look at him as you walk past him, you also don’t look at him as you sit down on the couch, all that you’re focused on is the pounding in your heart and the nervousness that you still feel after everything that happened minutes ago.

You don’t notice the way he freezes when he takes a look at you, the way he stops flipping through the channels, the way his cheeks flush red when he looks at the sweater on your body – he knows that the only thing underneath the blue sweater of his, is a black, lacy bra and it makes him feel… flustered.

He sees the way you tug at the hem of his sweater when it rides up, pulling your short skirt along, he sees the way you bite down on your lip, he sees the way you glance at him nervously and suddenly Steve feels his blood rushing south. 

He swore to himself that he would never do what he did last week, and he really tried to resist you.

But how can he? 

How can he resist when you so clearly are doing it too now? 

Or is he reading the signs wrong? 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore

[totheblood]

superposition. (three)

pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader

summary: ellie gives you lesson number three (she's kinda bitter about it) and you get an A+ on your test!

warnings: 18+, SMUT,(thigh riding) cursing, alcohol/drug mention, suggestive themes... cheating if u squint... once again the ai audios are... just dont listen around others

read the previous part of this fic here!

a/n: this was challenging for some reason... please know i'd love feed back and all reblogs and replies and asks are welcomed and encouraged... thank you for 3k!

"i want you to want me."

You agreed to a second date with Malia.

Despite the fact that you felt something was missing from your first date, you still agreed to give her a second chance. It was a weak attempt to shove whatever you were feeling for your best friend down into the pits of your stomach, but you were failing miserably. While you sat next to her in the crowded bar, all you could think about was Ellie and how her hands traced down your stomach and thighs a week ago.

In fact, that was all you could think about the entire week and it was beginning to make you feel pathetic. Every time Ellie’s hand brushed over yours when you were walking together, or whenever she licked her lips after eating something sent your brain into a frenzy. Her mouth, her hands, her voice ran through your mind on a loop. You were unsure what ‘touch-starved’ meant but you were almost positive that it was what you were feeling right now.

Things had gone back to normal after that night, despite Ellie abruptly leaving your apartment after making you cum. She was just acting as if nothing had happened, not bringing it up again or even joking about it in the way you expected her to. In fact, when you brought up the fact that you were going on another date with Malia she smiled and told you to tell her how it goes. 

It was toxic of you, but you had to admit that her lack of jealousy pissed you off. The Ellie that made quips about the date being too boring and offering to ‘take care of you’ was gone, and you were unsure of how to feel about it. She wasn’t cold, but she wasn’t your Ellie anymore. On movie night that Friday she even voted for the movie Dina picked, making your heart sink. She was pulling away from you and you had to do everything in your power to not freak the fuck out. 

Halfway through the movie, you got up and began collecting your belongings, searching the couch for your phone. 

“Where are you going?” Dina’s voice made you whip your head towards her, her eyes trained on you when they should’ve been trained on that stupid fucking movie her and Ellie wanted to watch.

“Uh- I’m going on a date,” you replied, turning back to the couch to find your phone and place it in your pocket. Instinctively your eye’s flicked towards Ellie, her eyes were stuck on the TV screen, intently watching the movie. 

“Oh, with the same girl as before?” Dina perked up, shifting her whole body in the direction of you and startling awake Jesse who had fallen asleep leaned up against her. 

“Yeah, Malia.” You gave her a smile, unsure if she could even see it in the dark room, the only light coming from the glow of the TV screen. “We’re getting drinks downtown.”

“Oh shit, you know how you get when you’re drunk,” Dina laughed to herself making Jesse groan, “You get all touchy-feely and shit. You’re for sure getting some tonight.”

This made Ellie turn to look at you, green eyes illuminated and lips pressed flat. Your heart jumped in your chest, excitement bubbling at the fact that she might still care. She looked you up and down before turning back to the movie, doing her best to ignore the conversation.

“I mean, I hope so,” you awkwardly laughed, stealing another quick glance at Ellie, “I think I may be ‘touch-starved’ or whatever that is.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being touched by Malia, that girl is hot,” Dina whispered, so Jesse wouldn’t hear, “I saw her on campus the other day and I was like ‘Dam-”  

“Can you guys shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie.” Ellie chimed in, her tone sharp. Dina playfully pushed Ellie’s shoulder before rolling her eyes and mouthing a ‘sorry’ to you and gesturing for you to go.

“See you later, guys.” You half-whispered, making your way out the door. Ellie watched as you made your way to the door, eyes lingering for a minute after the door had shut behind you.

Ellie was doing her best to be nonchalant but was failing miserably. It took everything in her to pretend that she didn’t know what you felt like, what you sounded like moaning her name. All she wanted to do was pretend nothing had happened, force a smile on her face when you mentioned going on a second date, and ignore the pain in her jaw from clenching it too much. It was much easier said than done. 

It wasn’t news to anyone that you brought out a volatile reaction in Ellie. Whenever you were mentioned by someone in a negative light she had to physically restrain herself from knocking their teeth out, failing on two occasions. Whenever you were mentioned in a positive light, Ellie had to stop herself from listing all of the things she liked about you or getting jealous at the idea that someone may take you away from her. She knew she didn’t own you, but a part of you belonged to her and she knew that. 

Again, Ellie waited by her phone that night waiting for you to text her that your date was over and that you wanted her to come over. She wasn’t expecting you to, but she still hoped that you would.

The date with Malia went as smoothly as last time. The conversation was good, the drinks were even better, and when her hand rested at the side of your thigh and she asked you if you wanted to go back to her place, you happily obliged. All of it was fuzzy, her frantically unlocking her door with your lips nipping and sucking at her neck, her leading you to her bedroom with girly laughs filling the room, her pressing you down into her mattress, hands pulling at your waistband, and you pushing her off the bed. 

You sat up with a gasp and hand clamped over your mouth as you looked over the edge of the bed to see her sitting on the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” You quickly scrambled to reach out a hand for her, helping her to get up. You assumed she would be pissed but all she did was laugh and accept your outstretched hand. Your face had worry written all over it, your brows wrinkled and eyes wide. 

“It’s okay,” she let out a breathy laugh again, shaking her head as she sat next to you on the bed, “I’m assuming you’re just not ready?”

You took a good look at her watching the way her features all sat perfectly on her face. You were ready, and touch starved, so why couldn’t you do this with her? 

“I don’t think I am,” you reluctantly replied, an apologetic look on your face, “I’m just not there yet, I’m new to all of this so I think we should take it slow.”

“Of course,” she reached a hand out to push your hair out of your face, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Suddenly, the room felt extremely small and you felt the need to get out of there. It wasn’t anything she had done but the realization that you had just pushed your date off her bed was beginning to set in. You stood up quickly, smoothing out your shirt and beginning to make your way out to her living room where you had thrown your bag. 

“I should go,” your voice was rushed and frantic mimicking your movements. Malia was quick on your tail, trying to reassure you in her own rushed voice, but it all came out as static to you. You turned quickly on your heels to face her, your phone and bag in hand. “I’ll text you, okay?” 

You gave her a kiss on the cheek before rushing out the front door and whipping out your phone to dial the only person you knew how to call these days. You rushed down the staircase and out onto the street, pressing her contact number scared she wouldn’t pick up. It only rang once before you heard her voice through the phone.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked frantically, knowing that if you were calling her and not texting, than something was wrong.

“Um, yeah, yeah-” You breathed out, voice shaky and unstable.

“What’s wrong, Petal?” From your phone, you could hear her already getting up and getting her things together to come and get you.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you lied, “Can you just come pick me up? I’m just at Malia’s and I need to get out of here.” 

There was silence on her end for a minute. “Uh, yeah. Just send me the address.” 

After what felt like ages of you shaking your head and looking around for Ellie’s car, she pulled up, headlights flashing at you as she approached. You rushed to the door, pulled it open, and got in the passenger seat, avoiding eye contact with Ellie. 

“Hey, you okay?” She asked again, her voice much softer this time. You turned to look at her with your arms crossed. 

“I’m fine, Ellie. It just-” You took a deep breath avoiding her eyes once again. “Can you just drive?”

“My place or yours?” 

“Yours.”

Ellie gave you a curt nod before turning up the radio and driving over to her apartment building. Once you got there and both made your way into her apartment, you were suddenly uncomfortable. You forgot that you had on makeup and a tight shirt and leather pants that you were definitely not going to sleep in.

“Uh, Ellie?” Your voice was small as you followed her into her room. It was much cleaner than it usually was and didn’t reek of weed like it usually did. It instead smelled like… “Did you light a candle or something?” 

“Yeah, why?” She glanced up at you from her place at her dresser, searching through the drawers for something. 

“No reason,” you looked around her room once again, “Just wondering why it smells so good in here.”

She gave you another quick glance and a small smirk, taking an oversized shirt of hers from the drawer and throwing it at you. “Yeah it’s Cactus Blossom. Got it on sale and Bath and Body Works.” 

You opened up the shirt and looked at it, it was a ‘Nirvana’ t-shirt that you saw Ellie wear multiple times before. 

“It’s to sleep in, by the way.” She joked, noticing you stare at the shirt. 

“Yeah, thanks.”

When you came back from changing into Ellie’s shirt, she was in her own pajamas: a loose fitting t-shirt and oversized boxers. She looked up at you from her place on the bed, her eyes lingering on your bare legs for a moment. She pursed her lips and patted the spot next to her on the bed. Climbing back onto the bed, you sat crosslegged next to Ellie, your hands securely in your lap. Ellie put her phone down to look at you, her eyes catching on your neck. 

“Is that a hickey?” She reached up, finger brushing over the purple bruise on your neck. For a moment, you watched her face fall, but she quickly regained herself as she pulled her hand away. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t even realiz-” You were cut off by the sound of Ellie using your name, something she only did when she was serious or mad at you. “What?”

“Did you sleep with her? Is that why yo-”

“What? Ellie, no.” You reassured her, not understanding why there was a need to in the first place.

“So then what happened? Why are you here and not with her?” Ellie’s voice was low and carried a hint of worry with it. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for an answer she wasn’t going to give you verbally.

“She just-” You dramatically sighed, looking down at your hands then back up at her. “We were going to. Like, she was on top of me and was kissing me, and it did feel good, I’m not going to lie, but then she started to try to remove my pants and I just-” 

Ellie’s face was cold, her teeth clenched and her arms crossed in front of her body. She knew she was showing herself but couldn’t stop herself. “You just what?”

“I pushed her off the bed.” You admitted, covering your face in your hands and letting out an embarrassed laugh. Not to your surprise, Ellie was laughing too, a big hearty laugh that came from her chest. If you weren’t so embarrassed you would be basking in the sound, your heart leaping out of your chest and into hers. Instead, your face remained hidden by your hands as you shook your head. 

“Hey, Petal,” Ellie managed to get out in between laughs, reaching for your wrist and pulling them from your face, “Let me see that face.” 

You dramatically pouted, causing her cheeks to redden and grow with the grin she was giving you. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, alright? Hey, if I was dating someone that boring I would push her off me too.” 

Ellie watched as the smile came back to her face and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“She’s not boring.” You reminded her.

“And you’re back.” Ellie teased, rubbing the inside of your wrists with her palm. 

“Maybe I need another lesson,” You whispered, eyes not leaving hers, “Maybe I’m just not good enough yet.” Something dark flashed over her eyes before she gently tugged your wrists towards her, causing you to lean over on your knees, ass in the air. 

“Are you sure you need another lesson?” She whispered, bringing her face close to yours. “Or do you just want me to be the one to fuck you?”

Your tongue caught in your throat, mouth going dry as you looked down at her lips. 

“Just a lesson, Ellie.” You gulped. “I’m dating her.”

“Yeah, but you’re fucking me.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss at the side of your lips, causing your eyelids to flutter shut and for you to hum. “Just admit what we both already know. I’m the only one you can get wet for.”

“Yeah, but that could change. You’re my frie-” She cut you off by releasing your hands from her grasp, causing you to fall forward into her. In one swift motion, her hands caught your face, bringing you up to her lips to kiss you. It was messy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. Her knee came up in between your legs, pushing you forward, causing a groan to fall from your lips into Ellie’s. 

She sucked on your bottom lip, one hand leaving your face to pull you on top of her by your waist. You sat with your legs on both sides of Ellie’s thigh, humming when her lips made their way to your neck. Carefully, she sucked over the purple mark left by Malia in an attempt to cover it up with her own. Your hand grabbed onto the back of her hand shoving her into the crook of your neck, letting a “Fuck, Ellie,” fall straight from your lips.

Pulling back from you she examined her work, content with the dark and larger bruising caused by her. Her eyes traveled back to your face, smiling at your swollen bottom lip and sweat beading on your forehead. Her chest was rising and falling dramatically, mirroring yours. 

“I’ll give you another lesson,” she panted, lifting the thigh you were sitting on, causing you to stifle back a moan. “Oh, fuck..I’ll teach you how to ride. How to fuck yourself against my leg. That sound okay?”

“Mhm,” you responded, eyes glassy and anticipation stirring inside you. Both of her hands were placed at your waist firmly as she slowly moved you forward. 

“What you have to do is,” She began, looking down to where you sat down on her. In the heat of the moment, neither of you had realized that you were dripping onto the skin of her thigh, straight through your panties. “Fuck, is this from that alone?” 

When you nodded, Ellie blushed leaning forward to press a kiss on your cheek, hands still on your waist. “You really are touch starved, Petal.” She pressed another kiss on your neck, making you whimper and her grip tighten. 

“You just have to rock your hips back and forth,” Her hands fell down to your waist, guiding you to rock back and forth against her. “Slowly, okay?” Nodding, you began rocking back and forth, eyes closing as you whimpered each time your clothed cunt made contact with her thigh. 

“I think you could cum off of this alone.” She cooed continuing to guide your hips and giving you a gentle kiss on your jaw each time you made a noise. She was conditioning you to moan for her. “Don’t you think so?” Another kiss, another moan, another kiss. 

“You can pick up the pace now, Petal.” You quickened your movements, rocking back and forth at a faster pace. Ellie brought her thigh up and pushed your hips down with her hands. She was pressing you into her, causing you to throw your head back and let out a volatile moan. She used one of her hands to catch the back of your head and pull you close to her. 

Your movements began to get more jagged as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach rise again. Her breath was shaky, her own cunt dripping at the sight of you. Your knee had begun to press into her through her clothes, causing her to let out her own moan. From the sound alone you were about to come.

“Come with me, come with me, fuck,” Her breath was jagged and breathy, but her grip on you never wavered. “Come with me, baby, fuck.” 

That was all it took for you before you were screaming her name and collapsing into her, her own moan coming out much quieter than yours, and in short breaths.  Your hands rested on her shoulder, as your head hung low and you crawled off of her. With deep breaths, you leaned back against the headboard, almost ashamed to look at her. 

“Was that okay?” Your voice was small, unsure of itself. 

“Yeah, yeah, that was uhm-” She turned to look at you and gave you an exhausted smile. “That was good. You did good. A+ for you.” You both let out exhausted laughs.

After she got you cleaned up, and you didn’t mention the fact that you were going on another date with Malia, you both fell asleep silently in her bed. Again, she pretended it hadn’t happened and turned off the side table lamp as she watched you pretend to sleep.

ai audios:

[murderthegods]

One thing I really like about I Saw the TV Glow that I don't see people talking about is the specific tone that "there is still time" takes on in it. Lots of people talking about that line ofc, but I see everyone talking about it as though it's unambiguously and only a message of hope.

The obvious thing to take away from "there is still time" is of course that you can still save yourself. As long as you haven't died yet, you still have a chance. You don't have to die like this. You can still live your life. And that's not not the point of the line ofc, but I'd argue it's missing something, and that's that you haven't left yet.

This is the movie about the fear of the known, the horror of there being no monsters, the fear of waiting. And in that context, a message of reassurance that I can afford to wait a little longer is awful! I don't want to wait any longer! I know I'm going to wait for as long as I can, but I want out! Obviously it's better than not having any time at all, but only because that would be the train hitting me. "There is still time" means I'm standing on the tracks like a deer in the headlights, and the train might be miles away but I can see it and I can feel in my bones that I can't move yet - or that I won't - and a voice tells me that I'll be fine, I can afford to stay on the tracks a little longer, it'll be fine, I'm not dying yet, it's fine, there is still time, but every second I still have time is a second I still can't breathe.

I've lived my entire life haunted by deadlines and the lack thereof, and to me the phrase "there is still time" contains just as much dread as the rest of the movie. If there weren't any time, then I could just, I dunno, power through it. I've written enough essays the night before, it's not fun, I hate it actually, but as long as I still have time I know from experience that I'm not going to do it yet. If I were on my deathbed then I could just make my dying words "I was a girl the whole time" and I wouldn't have to deal with any of the consequences because I'd be dead. In a way, that's the easy way out. Which, y'know, is the whole point! If I wait until I don't have any time left to start living, then I almost may as well have not done anything! That's what the movie is scared of.

I do actually have time, it is genuinely fine if I don't do anything right this second, or tonight, or this month, but how many years do I want to let that add up? I don't want to spend another year like this, much less ten! The scary thing isn't the idea of "dying like this" - how I am at the moment of my death is almost immaterial compared to how I am in all the years I'll have before then! The scary thing is every day I spend being like this, and none of them individually are all that scary but all of them is terrifying! I can't believe that I don't have time because it's not true and because then I'd be so paralyzed with fear and despair I wouldn't do anything, but if I actually fully believed that I did have time, I'd do what Owen did!

The more I think about it the more odd it seems that people are latching onto the phrase "there is still time" as a message of hope. It is pretty objectively a true statement in this context and it's even pretty inarguably hopeful, but it's also kinda obviously a phrase that can only be meant to encourage inaction. The point of it is that you don't have to do anything (yet). In a movie that we can all see is clearly about how you need to do something! It's created a fascinating environment where people say "There is still time, so go on hrt today!" seemingly without spotting any contradiction! If there's still time, I may as well start tomorrow, right?

Yes, if you don't believe you have time, if you believe your life is already over, then you're probably not going to do anything to improve it, but equally as much, who would ever take a risk to improve their life now if they think they have all the time in the world?

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[arminsesposa]

In Every Universe. (Yuji Itadori x female reader)

Are we together in every universe Yuji?

Fluff 😼 so I was thinking abt making a tag list if anyone’s interested!! but here’s another one before the year ends.

The song you two dance too is completely up to you guys but I imagined It’s been a Long, long time by Harry James

Happy New Years Eve! I will be writing more 2024 and I hope next year brings everyone peace and love 🫶🏽

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💓

As the sun was beginning to set painting a beautiful ray of colors that shined through Yujis dorm. Thankfully, Megumi was dragged out by Gojo to go to some ice cream shop that he strongly did not want to go to leaving you two alone. You have been dating Yuji for quite a while remembering how absolutely happy he was to hear a new student was joining the trio, adding onto another girl for Nobara to be friends with. Was it the way you smiled around everyone? Or your laugh that although you hated it Yuji absolutely adored. It didn’t take long for everyone to realize that he was Head over heels for you. Constantly asking Megumi what you were doing if he didn’t see you all day or bothering Nobara about photos you guys took hanging out. So when he finally asked you out and you said yes, he felt like his dream came true. Which brings you to You and Yuji sitting on his bed, his arm wrapped around you as two watched the tv. Nothing more you could imagine than that. As you payed close attention to the drama going on the tv, a question popped in your head that you had to ask. “Hey Yuji?” You asked him looking at him as he turned to face you. “What’s up?” He asked curiously as he tapped his fingers on your arm that was wrapped around you. “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” You asked him as the couple on the tv were dancing together in a slow and romantic way that everyone dreams to be danced with. And for the first time Yuji froze.

Yuji paused. Almost as if time stopped. As he looked at your curious face waiting for his response. He knew there was a right answer and he definitely knew how to say it but he wanted to wait. So instead of answering your question he turned off the tv and stood up leaving you completely flabbergasted. “Yuji?” You asked him confused as he ignored your question and you felt nervous of what his answer might be. Is this where everything ends between you two? You were overthinking as he turned on his speaker and played a song on his phone. A slow romantic song that he pulled you to dance with. As you giggled at his random behavior, and the way he placed his hands on your hips as the song played. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck as you two danced together. The feeling of comfort and warmth between you two as you swayed, the sunset still glistening outside as you saw the way he looked at you. The way he smiled and how handsome he looked. You felt yourself falling in love all over again. The way you placed your head on his chest you could hear his heartbeat as he held you a bit tighter.

If only you could see yourself in his eyes. The way you looked as the sunset made you even more beautiful. Yuji could feel his heart beating a bit faster as he moved some strands of hair out of your way to see your face clearly. The way your hair shined in the sun, how you were glowing in the sunset, as you smiled back at him. “(Y/N)” Yuji said softly as you looked into his eyes. He decided to twirl you, as he heard your giggle and the way you playfully called his name “Yuji!” Knowing he caught you off guard. As he twirled you and twirled you away from him leaving you too holding hands as you were standing in front of the window, the sun almost finishing setting, the beautiful hues of the yellow pink sky adding a beautiful scenery as you stared at him. From his view you were everything as he finally answered your question. “(Y/N)” the way he called your name in such a loving way before he continued “It will always be you. No matter what, no matter where.” He said almost breathlessly as your eyes widened at his answer and the way you noticed his pupils dilating as he looked at you before cupping your face and bringing you to a long sweet loving kiss.

[annesthaeticc]

lovers rock | sherlock x fem!reader

| Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

| one shot , song fic

| 961 words

| 'because love can burn like a cigarette, and leave you alone with nothing...' What Sherlock and Y/N had was beautiful, but it crashed and burned.

A/N okay bear with me it's short, but hey it's something, right? testing the waters asi hopefully hopefully come back into writing. let me know what you think!

————————————————————————————————

“Such a small world,” you quietly said and watched as the air escaped your lungs, echoing your words. The party inside was loud, but not loud enough for the silence outside was piercing yet calming. And so, he heard you. Slowly, he turned to see who spoke and found your silhouette, your shape outlined amongst the trees and the pillars.

Slowly, he walked towards you. Yet another mistake he was about to make. For all the choices he made that involved you, it led to one.

One. Big. Mistake.

Sherlock heard his heart thudding. Crashing and breaking in every step he made towards you. You sat there frozen, your eyes unblinking, or at least trying not to blink for you feared that if you do so, he might disappear.

Just like he did back then.

Sherlock sometimes wished he never pursued you, but here he was, about to do the very same thing. He never learned.

“Indeed it is.” he replied, his very perfect presence now crowding over you. His shadow embraced you and your eyes finally blinked only to find he was still there, standing in front of you.

He was taller. His face is more defined. His curls, curled to perfection. His perfume was the same, or is it? His lips fuller, more inviting than ever.

Sherlock noticed this, and cannot help himself but do the very same. You were perfect in every shape and form, as the day he met you. He committed crimes before, but his favorite might be the one he is about to make; to kiss you.

Silence passed by the small distance between you and him and it was almost deafening. You were waiting for him to say something. Something along the lines of “I’m sorry I left you…” And he was doing just the same, waiting for the words like “I’m sorry I couldn't wait for you…”

“Best man leaving early?” you finally said, shyly asking. He nodded and looked away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, cutting you off before you could even say anything.

“I was invited, well not just me really, Ian and I were…” your voice trailed off as your husband's name left your lips. Again, he nodded.

Ah yes, Ian. Sherlock knew more than you. He is decent enough, this Sherlock could guarantee. But not decent enough to leave you on your own for days, even weeks or months on end while he was traveling the world on some sort of opera tour. Sherlock didn't care enough to dig for more details.

All he knew was deep seated anger and sadness.

And this resonated through the walls of the second floor of 221B Baker Street for months. Your wedding invitation sent for him lay hopeless on his desk, waiting to be written on to confirm his invitation. He was about to decline after finally making a decision that went on for weeks, only to find out it was pointless to respond because your wedding was already done.

And so, he threw the invitation in the fire. He watched as the intricate paper got swallowed by the flames, melting into ashes, into nothing. He was mesmerized by it. How something could be nothing because of the burning flames.

He was shaken from his thoughts when he saw your hand, holding a packet of cigarettes. You were offering him one and Sherlock accepted. You sat down again on the bench and he followed, allowing a few inches between you.

Quietly, the two of you smoked. Avoiding glancing or talking. You were caught up in a trance and were shaken out of it when you felt movement. Sherlock stood up and stepped on the cigarette. His shoe dug into the grass as the last of the embers glowed.

“Going somewhere?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied, his voice deep.

“I could drive you.” you offered.

“No thank you. I’ll catch a cab.” he replied, slowly walking away.

“Sherlock, wait, please—” you caught up with him and offered to drive him once more. He declined and you almost gave up.

His figure faded into the darkness when you cried out, “Sherlock, I'm sorry.”

Tears flooded your eyes and you couldn't help. It fell from your eyes, flowing down your face. Everything was blurry and you felt your hands shaking from the nicotine and from the adrenaline of your apology.

“It's been 12 years, Y/N,” he replied. “Why are you saying sorry now?”

“Because…”

“You will not tempt me to play one of your games, Y/N. Not this time. Not ever again.”

“Sherlock, please,”

“I'm sorry? Is that all you could think? You left me, Y/N,” he cried. And now you see his face. Anger, despair, and longing painted his face,

“You left me first!” you accused him. He really did.

“And yet you couldn't wait for me, couldn't you? All the promises I made—”

“Were gone as soon as you disappeared, Sherlock.”

“Oh ye of little faith!” he said, his voice booming.

“Sherlock,” you breathlessly begged. “I'm sorry.”

Sherlock heard you, and saw your eyes. He hated you for marrying someone else, but what he hated most is seeing you cry. He pulled out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed your face, wiping away the tears. He pulled you into his embrace, just like he did back then. When your cries died down, he pulled away then planted a kiss on your temple.

“We would never work out. You're happier with him.” Sherlock said.

“I realized that what he had, was all that it was. Nothing more, nothing less. We burned too fast until we became nothing, Y/N.” he continued.

“I loved you,” you whispered.

“And I did too. So much.” he said, his voice breaking.

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[lifeofpriya]

Hii! i love when you write for Jack could I request something with the prompt “wanting more physical affection yet you don't want to overstep” ❤️ can’t wait to read it

hiii!!! omg, thank you for the love ❤️ i really hope you enjoy this drabble, i always have such a blast writing for Jack 🫶🏼

For So Long

wc: 1.4k

"You did well today," you whispered to Jack, your heart beating a little faster as you saw the glisten of sweat on his forehead. He just returned from his post-game press conference, and you knew he'd be tired. Yet, the energy between you was palpable, like the hum of a guitar string before it's plucked.

You could see the smallest of smiles twitch on the corner of Jack's lips as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice gruff from the exertion of the match.

You both sat on the couch in the dimly lit living room of the hotel suite, the air conditioning humming gently in the background, the smell of sweat and the sting of defeat lingering faintly in the air. The TV played the highlights of the day's games on mute, the bright lights of the screens casting an eerie glow on Jack's face as he stared straight ahead, lost in thought.

You took a deep breath, your hand hovering over his for a second before you finally gathered the courage to place it on his thigh. The warmth of his skin seeped into yours, and you felt his muscles tense slightly before he leaned into the touch, the tension in his body melting away like wax. His eyes remained on the TV, but you knew he was aware of your gesture.

Jack's hand reached over and gently took yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You felt a rush of relief and excitement, your pulse quickening as he brought your hand up to his cheek, the stubble prickling your palm. He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he leaned into your touch, allowing you to feel the weight of his head. The gesture was so intimate, so full of unspoken affection, it was almost too much to handle.

You watched the TV, but your eyes kept drifting to the tapestry of emotions playing across Jack's face, the way his eyes fluttered as he leaned into your embrace. The commentators talked about his match, analyzing every serve and volley, but all you could think about was the way your thumb traced small circles on the back of his hand. The room was quiet except for the distant murmur of the TV and the occasional clink of an ice cube in a glass.

Jack turned to you, his eyes searching yours once more. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he might kiss you. But instead, he rested his forehead against yours, the dampness of his skin cool against yours. "You're always here for me," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "It means the world."

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words to express what you felt. "Jack," you began, but he shushed you gently, placing a finger to your lips. "You don't have to say it," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know."

The air in the room thickened, charged with unspoken feelings and desires. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, smell the faint scent of his cologne, and see the tiny beads of sweat that still clung to his skin. Your heart pounded in your chest, a cacophony of hope and fear. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if this was just friendship to him?

With trembling hands, you reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The silence stretched out, a tightrope you didn't dare to cross. But the warmth of his skin, the way he leaned into your touch, it was all you needed to know that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

Jack's eyes closed, and he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The room felt smaller; the air charged with a tension that made your skin tingle. The TV flickered in the background, casting a strobe of light across his face, highlighting the contours of his cheekbones and the sharp line of his jaw. You leaned in, your breath hitching as you felt his breathing quicken, the anticipation a living thing between you.

The moment hovered, delicate and fragile as a soap bubble, and you could almost hear the sound of your own pulse in your ears. Your eyes were glued to his, searching for any sign of what was happening in his mind. The hand that held yours tightened, his thumb tracing the outline of your palm in a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt the warmth of his breath on your cheek as he leaned closer, and the smell of his skin filled your nostrils. The TV's flickering light painted his face in strobes of color, making the moment feel both real and surreal. His eyes searched yours, looking for the answers to questions he hadn't yet asked. You could see the uncertainty in them, the fear of rejection, and the hope for something more.

With a soft sigh, Jack leaned in, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours. The kiss was gentle, tentative, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn't. Instead, you melted into it, your heart racing like it was in the final set of a grand slam. His hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss, the pressure of his mouth on yours feeling like the first sip of water after a marathon.

You could taste the sweetness of victory and the hint of defeat on his lips, a bittersweet reminder of the day's events. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer until you were both lying on the couch, limbs tangled together in a mess of nerves.

Jack soon pulled away from this kiss, leaving a trail of warmth across your skin as his gaze searched yours for confirmation. You nodded, the room spinning with a mix of excitement and fear. He took a moment to study your face, his eyes flickering with the emotions that mirrored your own. "I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of his words settling into your heart. "Me too," you murmured, the admission slipping out like a secret long held.

Jack's smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the soft light. "Really?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble. You nodded again, unable to find the right words to express the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. The TV was forgotten, and the world outside the suite ceased to exist as you focused solely on the man in front of you.

With a gentle tug, Jack pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together as if they were two puzzle pieces that had finally found their match. Your heart thudded against your ribcage as he kissed you again, afraid that if you let go, the moment would shatter like glass.

This time, the kiss was more than just a question. It was an answer, a declaration, a promise. You felt the passion behind it, the months of yearning and doubt coming to a head in a perfect symphony of sensation.

"Getting into the US Open final would've been nice," Jack said, a hint of humor in his voice, breaking the spell. You both chuckled, the tension in the room dissipating like a mist in the morning sun. "But this…this is pretty amazing too."

You couldn't help but smile, the warmth of his arms around you making you feel like you could conquer the world. "Yeah," you agreed, your voice a little shaky. "It's definitely up there."

Jack's hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "I just didn't know how to tell you," he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. "I didn't want to mess things up."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the warmth of his touch spread through your body. "I was scared too," you confessed, your voice a mere whisper. "But I'm so happy you did."

Jack's eyes searched yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. He leaned in for another kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair. This kiss was different; it was filled with the promise of something more, something that went beyond friendship.

[corvus--rex]

bodyguard au, trans omega Keith/alpha Lance

I started this and it got away from me, so this is the original unedited twt thread. whenI have the spoons again I'll finish and post the second part to twt first and then here and then the rest (along with the expanded parts 1&2 will be posted to ao3.

Also, there is a description of a nsfm image so...

Keith needed a bodyguard. The vocalist/guitarist of Marmora had a stalker and it had reached a point he couldn't ignore, not when he'd been sent pictures of himself in his own home - pictures taken at different times of the day, doing anything and nothing.

Given that he was both trans and an omega, he'd dealt with shitty fans before, but this was terrifying. it had started over social media, unsettling comments on the band's posts that shifted to Keith's public accounts. For every account that was blocked, another took its place, and the comments continued.

But that morning he'd found the manila envelope on his doorstep, well inside the safety of his security system. He almost threw the envelope in the fireplace, not wanting to know what was in it, but curiosity got the better of him. Over a dozen blown up photos, all in black and white, taken from a different place each time.

There was one of him rolling around in the backyard with his huge husky mix Kosmo, one of him sprawled across his sofa late at night, the glow of the tv lighting his face, sitting at the huge kitchen island, coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, one from his bedroom, fresh from a shower with nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his hips, several others he only glanced at.

After the post-shower picture, they increased in intimacy until the last in the pile, another from his bedroom, naked, back arched and head thrown back as he came, his favorite knotting toy in clear view stretching his soaked pussy.

Keith stared at it, knowing exactly when that was taken. It was the night his last heat had started, his nest only half made before the first wave hit. He pushed the photo away, dislodging a single sheet of printer paper and sending it to the floor. He picked it up, dropping it to the island's surface when he saw what was on it.

Beautiful. You'll look even more exquisite screaming my name. Soon, darling. I'll have you very soon.

Minutes later, Keith was pulling out of his driveway, nearly crashing into his own gate in his desperation to get away from his own house. Kosmo whined in the backseat, but Keith was too afraid to leave him there alone or be without him. He hadn't managed to put the photos or message back into the envelope, and the image of him with Kosmo stared at him from the passenger seat. He forced himself to focus on the road, not looking away until he reached his manager's office building.

Once inside, he walked past Kolivan's admin and straight into his office, not caring who could be in there. Fortunately, his manager was alone, a spreadsheet of Marmora's upcoming tour and appearances on his monitor. Keith threw the stack of photos, emtpy folder, and typed message on Kolivan's pristine desk. He didn't realize he was shaking until Kosmo pulled on his sleeve, dragging him to the sofa.

"What's this?" Kolivan asked, but stopped when he looked through the first few pictures.

Keith had kept them in the same order they'd been in, note included, and said without looking up from Kosmo's head on his lap, "Keep going."

Kolivan handled each photograph carefully, taking in each image until he got to the last one. "Your bed doesn't face the windows and the curtains are drawn. How was this taken?"

Keith buried his fingers in the thick fur of Kosmo's neck. "I don't know. You-you don't think they've gotten inside do you? Set up cameras I don't know about?"

"I certainly hope not, but we can find out. Let me make a few calls." He picked up his phone, turning back to Keith once he'd found the contact he wa looking for. "I know a good private investigator. But with everything and then this," he gestured at the pile of photos and that note he'd stayed silent on, although Keith saw the rage in his hazel eyes, "I'm getting you a bodyguard, no arguments."

"Won't get any from me on that."

TBC…

-

divider/warning banner credit @cafekitsune

[doudouneverte]

Protect me, from me

a/n: I'm not really proud of the end but I really want to upload something this month, and sorry for the lack of content

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: One year after the event at Kamar Taj, Wanda lost her memories but somewhere in her mind the scarlet witch is ready to come back.

Type: a little angsty and fluff

Warning: taking place after MoM; me trying to write a panic attack

word count: 3704

----------

After all the mess she made with America, Wanda decided to close and destroy the Darkhold to protect everyone. She was there alone when everything started to fall on her, but when she was about to get hit by a stone, she woke up from a bad dream.

The Sokovian opened her eyes quickly, and she started to pant. She looked around to make sure everything was just a dream. She got relaxed when she saw you asleep beside her. She looked at her phone: 2a.m. She sighed and moved to the bathroom. While she was washing her face because of the sweat, she felt something strange, like a presence. She turned around but didn't see anyone. She looked at the mirror again, but she saw them, just behind her. A woman who looked like her; the same hair, the same eyes, and the same face, but the only difference was her expression; she seemed sad and angry at the same time.

Wanda started to panic when a red aura started to emerge from the woman, but when she was about to scream, you entered the room visibly tired. "Hey babe, are you okay?" you asked with a sleepy voice.

The ginger head looked at you, then at the mirror, where the woman had already disappeared, before she looked at you again. "Yeah, it's just that—I had to pee," she replied, and you nodded. "Did I wake you up?" she asked.

"No, it's just that I couldn't find you near me, and I missed you." You said, taking steps toward her until you were close enough to kiss her. She smiled and kissed you back. You always had this power over her; every time she felt bad or anxious, you were always the only one who could help her. "Are you stressed about the party tonight?" you asked when you felt her a little off.

She shook her head. "No, it's just that...you know me and the crowd," she tried to explain.

"We're not obligated to go if you don't want to."

"Y/n, it's your dad's birthday, of course we have to go."

"Yes, but I can always tell him you're sick, and we will see him another day."

"Thank you, honey, but don't worry; I'm fine, I promise." She kissed your forehead. "Now come to sleep; you have to work in a few hours," she reminded you, and you groaned.

This afternoon, Wanda was just back from a little trip to the grocery store. She took time for herself before you came back from work. She played with your dog, Marcus; he loved her, and since you two started dating, he can almost guess every time Wanda is about to have a panic attack. Your girlfriend was reading a book on the couch before she fell asleep.

She opened her eyes, and she was in a house, somewhere she didn't know. She looked around; she called your name, but you didn't reply. She started to worry but decided to check out. When she left the house, everything was weird; the world was in black and white like an old TV show; some people were dressed like back in the 50s, some like in the 60s, etc.; nothing seemed logical. The redhead wanted to escape and find you, but she ran into a woman. This woman wasn't dressed like other characters, and something was strange; despite the black and white atmosphere, her eyes were glowing blue.

"Wanda? Why do you do that, Wanda?" The mysterious woman asked, but your girlfriend didn't understand.

She couldn't reply before a tall man appeared beside her and said, Wanda, I finally found you." She looked at him confused, and she remarked that he didn't look like a human. She wanted to run, but the man grabbed her arm and asked, "Where are you going? The boys need to be fed, and I can't do this alone." Boys? Wanda wondered who's boys. 

"Excuse me, I think you're wrong. I don't know you," she replied, very anxious. She started to walk away, followed by the two strangers, when a voice called her—well,  not really her.

"This is her; it's the Scarlet Witch," a brunette woman said, pointing at Wanda. "It's you. You're the Scarlet Witch," she said, and she repeated it endlessly. Wanda started to feel panicked. She suddenly screamed and woke up. Everything seemed normal. Marcus was near her, visibly worried, and she patted him to let him know she was better now. She made her way to the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of tea, but she noticed something strange. Every piece of furniture in the room turned red. She rubbed her eyes to be sure she was still dreaming, but nothing changed.

She grabbed a mug and examined it before she heard the front. She came back to her senses and went to greet you, but when she was in front of you, the mug in her hand turned white again. "Hey babe, how was your day?" you asked, approaching her. You wanted to hug her, but you noticed what she had in her hand: "Wands, honey, are you alright?"

She turned her attention to you. "Yeah, it's just that I'm distracted." she replied. She didn't know why she didn't tell you the truth; maybe because she thought it was too unrealistic and you would never believe her. Honestly,  it's understandable. It's pretty weird to say to your girlfriend that you had a weird dream where someone called you a witch, and after that, when you woke up, all her kitchen furniture turned a bright red.

"If you don't feel good, we can cancel for tonight." You proposed, but she shook her head.

"No, don't worry. And honestly, I think it will be great to see your dad."

"Okay... I'll take a shower, and we can watch a movie if you want; we still have a lot of time before tonight."

"It's an excellent idea; I'll choose the movie and prepare the snack; go get a shower." She kissed you, and you made your way to your bedroom. The Sokovian took a deep breath and started to make her way to the kitchen again. Surprisingly, nothing weird happened again this afternoon, at least until you started to prepare for the party.

You left the bedroom just to check that everything was okay for Marcus. Wanda was alone in the bedroom. She opened the wardrobe and picked out a dress, but in front of the mirror, the dress turned into a scarlet one. Your girlfriend started to be scared; she threw the dress away and took another one, but the same thing happened.

After the fourth one, she just sat on the bed, and her breath started to be erratic. She knew that she was having a panic attack, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. Thankfully for her, you entered the room just as it started, and you noticed her on the bed. You didn't think twice before sitting beside her and taking her face between your hands.

"Hey Wands, babe, follow my breath...breathe in....and breathe out." You instructed her, but when she didn't follow you, you started to worry. You pushed your forehead against hers and waited until she noticed your presence. "Hey honey, can you hear me?" you asked, and she nodded. "Okay, I need you to follow my breath; can you please do that for me?" You waited until she gave physics replies to continue, "Great, breathe in...breathe out." You instructed again, and when she did, you repeated it until she came back to her senses.

"I'm sorry," Wanda said, and you frowned your eyebrows.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Because you're tired because of the week, and I won't help you by having a panic attack now."

"Hey, look at me." You raised her head and made her look at you. "It's not your fault, okay?  You don't have to be sorry for something you can't control." You reassured her, but she started to cry.

"I know, but it's been a year now, and I can't help but feel like a burden for you. I know you have to work hard for the company, and I still can't remember everything about before we met," she said, and you hugged her.

"Hey, it's okay; doctor Martins said it will take some time." You reminded her.

"Yes, but it's been ONE YEAR!" she snapped, getting away from your touch. "My memories should be back now, but instead of that, I just get fucking bad dreams and anxiety." You didn't say anything; you knew she needed it. "I–I don't know what to do." She sat on the bed, and some tears started to fall from her eyes.

You approached her carefully and sat next to her. When she didn't say anything, you pulled her close to you and ran a hand through her hair.

"I feel like I haven't made any progress." She sobbed, "Sometimes I'm wondering why you're still with someone useless like me." another sob.

You shushed her and still tried to calm her. "You're not useless. Yes, your memories take some time to come back, but like the doctor said, you can't rush things." You reminded her, and you gently cupped her cheeks before leaving a lot of kisses on her face. "And if I'm still with someone incredible like you, it is because I love you." You said, and she smiled.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Always."

"Do you think we still have time to arrive at time?"

"Definitely not, but I know my dad doesn't mind." You said, standing up, "Are you sure you want to go?" You asked her, and she nodded. "Ok great."

"But... can you pick a nice dress for me, please?" She asked shyly, definitely not ready to repeat what happened earlier. You thought a little about it before agreeing.

The ride to the party was relaxing for Wanda; you spent the time talking about any little things that happened to you at work. It was distracting her from her thoughts. At the party, everyone was happy to finally see the both of you. With your girlfriend's hand in yours, you made your way to your dad and mom, who were relieved to know you could come.

"Happy birthday, dad!" You greeted him excitedly, and he matched your enthusiasm by giving you a crushing hug before giving another one to the Sokovian.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Y/l/n. We bought you something; I know you said you didn't want anything, but I really insisted." Wanda said, and your dad smiled and accepted her present.

"You really didn't have to." He replied, he wanted to talk more with her, but some coworkers came and brought him and you to see some potential new investors, leaving Wanda alone with your mom.

"Even at his birthday party, they talked about work." Your mom sighed, visibly angry, making your girlfriend laughed.

"You know how they are." She commented.

"Yes unfortunately." Your mom took a moment to make sure you were okay before she spoke again. "And I also know that you don't really like crowded places. So do you want to come with me on the rooftop?" She proposed, and the brunette accepted.

They talked for a moment before your mom had to take a call, leaving the Sokovian alone with her thoughts and a beautiful view of the city. She decided to come back to the party when her phone rang. She examined the number, but it didn't remind her of anything. With a nervous feeling, she picked up.

"Hello?" She asked nervously, and she waited a moment until someone replied.

"Oh sorry, hello. Wanda Maximoff, right?" The woman replied.

"Yes… and you are?"

"My name's Maria Hill. I worked for the SHIELD; I heard about what happened to you, and it took me a long time to find you." The woman called Maria declared.

"And how do you know me?" 

"I…well we worked together in the past."

"Were you an Avengers?"

"No, but I worked with them too."

"Okay, and how can I help you?"

"To be honest, I'll help you."

"Sorry?"

"I learned what happened to you about your amnesia, and I can help you." Wanda didn't hear the end of her sentence when you walked on the rooftop. "Wanda, are you here?"

"Uh, I'll call you back." She said before hanging out.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" You asked a little concerned when you heard her rush to end the phone call.

"Yes, of course."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry." She kissed your forehead "so why are you here?"

"It's time for the cake." You announced.

"Already?" 

"Yeah, come on." You grabbed her hand and dragged her into the elevator. While you were joining the party, you didn't stop to be touchy with the Sokovian, some caresses, compliments, and a lot of kisses.

Back at home later that night, you were both tired and ready for bed. Wanda felt an anger growing deep in her mind after the call with this Maria, but she didn't know why. Fortunately for her, this feeling was quickly forgotten when she started to fall asleep on top of you.

---------

In an apartment not so far from your home, a strange group was finishing some details for their operation.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, she doesn't seem dangerous; maybe we can let her live her life for now." Kate proposed.

"She doesn't remember being the Scarlet Witch; if we wait more and her memories come back, her powers will too, and it'll be too late." Maria explained.

"Okay, she's finally back, but she's not alone." Doctor Strange said coming back from wherever he was.

"Don't worry, we planned that." The older brunette said.

"Great, but I have a question." The sorcerer said, and the agent nodded to let him know that she was listening. "Why do we have to bring those two?" He asked pointed Kate and Yelena. 

"Because the world still needs heroes, and after our losses, they were the only ones available." She explained.

"Not me. I'm here because Kate Bishop is still reckless." The Russian said.

"And who's the person with Wanda?" The archer asked.

The ancient agent tapped something on her iPad before she showed it to them. "Y/n Y/l/n. The daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n. She's the future CEO of Y/l/n Corp." She introduced you.

Yelena examined your profile a moment before Strange spoke "Why don't we know her birthday?" He asked.

"She got adopted when she was little, but we don't really know anything about that or her biological parents." 

"That's because they're dead." The blonde said, gaining everyone's attention. "Y/n is from the red room; she never knew her parents; they both get mysteriously killed a few weeks after her birth. Dreykov sent an old widow to bring her to the red room." She explained.

"But what is she doing here?" Kate asked.

"When she was ten, she was sent on a mission with a group of older widows, but only two of them came back, and Y/n wasn't with them. She was the only person I could call my friend in this place. The widow told Dreykov that she was killed in the mission, but when I grew up, she revealed to me that she and the other widow found her a new place far from our nightmare. Dreykov decided to trust them because she wasn't one of the best."

There was a little silence; everybody was processing what the blonde said.

"Wow." Kate finally broke the atmosphere: "But wait, you didn't try to find her when you learned that she wasn't dead?"

"I tried, but the widows who helped her disappear were pretty good at erasing all their traces."

"Sorry to break this moment, but we need to go now." Maria said, and the girls nodded before following her out of the apartment.

--------

Wanda was sleeping, peacefully dreaming about a future with you, when a voice appeared out of nowhere. 'Wake up. Wake up, they are here.' the voice repeated. At first, it was low, but with time, the voice became louder, and she finally woke up from her dream.

She took a moment to look around her and make sure you were still sleeping, then she heard voices from outside of the house. They were whispering something, but she couldn't understand what they said. She made her way to the front door and looked through the pipe hole. She saw three shapes moving and stopping in front of the door. Something told her that they were not alone, and she took some steps back. When she did, she felt like someone was observing her from the roof.

Marcus sensed Wanda starting to be stressed and barked to gain her attention; at that, the women on the other side of the door stopped themselves. When the dog barked again, the Sokovian quickly tried to silence him.

"Hey little boy, stop. You don't want to wake up, mama, do you?" She asked, and being the good boy he was, Marcus stopped, but at this moment the previous anger that had been growing before she slept came back. The ginger head stood up in front of the door, and she didn't know how or why, she moved her hand, and a red aura started to form around the doorknob before the door opened alone.

Maria didn't have the time to process what happened before she got thrown away by a red fireball. The two other women looked at the scene, obviously surprised, before the widow got caught by Wanda's magic and got attracted to her.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" She asked Yelena after she pinned her against the nearest wall.

"Hey Wanda, let her go!" Kate tried to act firm, but the witch just chuckled.

"And who are you supposed to be?" She wanted to attack her, but her movement was restrained by some good magic ropes.

"Listen to me, Wanda; we're not here to harm you. We're just here to help you and bring you somewhere where some qualified people can help you." Strange said, appearing from the roof.

"You! I recognize you; you're—" She hadn't finished her sentence before you appeared from your bedroom with a gun pointed at the sorcerer.

"Get out of my house!" You yelled, and everybody looked at you.

"Y/n?" You looked at the one who called you; she seemed familiar, but you couldn't remember her name. "It's me; it's Yelena." She declared. You lowered your gun, clearly shocked.

"Yelena? But what are you doing here?" You asked.

"It's a funny story, but before that, I need you to tell her to let me go, please."

You made your way to Wanda with your gun still pointed at Strange. "Hey Wands, honey, you can let her go; she'd not hurt you, I promise." You said.

"I know, but I can't. I can't control this—" she suddenly felt on the ground with her hands around her head, screaming from pain.

You kneeled down beside her and tried to pull her into your arms, but a little scarlet barrier appeared around her body. All her memories, from Hydra to the incident at Kamar Taj, came back to her. She felt visibly tired on the ground.

While she was unconscious, you talked with the group, and they told you why they were here. They received orders to bring her to DC, where she would be put somewhere to make sure nothing like Kamar Taj happened again.

"I can't let you do that." You protested.

"Y/n, listen to me—" Maria tried to say but you cut her off.

"No, you'll listen to me. I found her last year when she was alone, she lost her memories and her hopes. I spent a lot of time trying to break her walls, I spent a lot of nights awake because she couldn't sleep. I was there for her when she needed someone. I falled for her okay, and you want me to give up everything because you want to imprison her again?" You scoffed "sorry but I think you need to leave." You stood up and walked to the front door to open it.

They all left, but not before Yelena gave you a last hug.

A few days later, Wanda didn't wake up from this night. It's started to worry you. This day, you just came back from work like always, and you made your way to the bedroom when you saw her, on her feet but with a strange outfit.

"Wanda?" Hearing her name, your girlfriend turned her attention to you, and before she could say anything, you were catching her between your arms. This feeling was very peaceful, but she pushed you away. "Babe?"

"I remember everything." She said, and you smiled.

"That's great, my love."

"No, it's not great." You frowned your eyebrows "I'm a monster, Y/n. I killed those people. I killed everyone." She said and started crying. You took some steps toward her and wrapped your arms around her waist.

"My love, look at me." You said firmly, but still carefully. It took a few seconds, but she did. "Tell me what happened."

After a few hours, Wand finished telling you everything about her and her past.

"Listen, you know who I am. I was straight with you even before we started dating. I also did a lot of things I'm not proud of, but look, things have changed since. I have a family, a great dog," you kissed her tenderly, "and a marvelous girlfriend. I don't care about your past; I wasn't there when all those things happened. But I'm here now, and trust me when I say that I'll still love you and be here for you." You gave her another kiss. "I love everything about you, Wanda Maximoff, even the flaws."

Now she was crying in your arms. She didn't notice, but she gained control over her powers, and her clothes changed to her usual ones.

"What did I do to deserve someone like you?" She asked through her sobs. "I love you."

"I know my love."

[brynnamon]

I've been thinking a lot about "I Saw The TV Glow" today. When first went to see it with my GFs, we were stunned. One of them started sobbing during the credits and sobbed for nearly 30 minutes. The other was just mute and numb.

Idk how I felt. I have a habit of turning off my emotions and then almost feeling them in the future, but not really.

I'm working on it in therapy, but it's hard AF.

Anyway, I've been thinking about the movie all day and I've been crying off and on and I think I finally have the ability to put some of it into words.

I missed a decade of my adult life due to a narcissistic co-dependent hoarder. I finally started to transition and explore and it ruined our relationship as I made other friends outside of his circle.

I feel like I missed so much, especially as my GFs are younger than me (I'm 30, one GF is 24 (we started dating a couple years ago), and then the other is 20 (started dating a couple months before she turned 20) ) but I also know I have so much to look forward to.

I'm so used to being numb though. It's like a blanket for me. I'm so used to just....surviving the day and that's it. The idea of burying myself again so I can claw myself back out is so terrifying.

I feel like I started the process but I haven't finished it. I'm stuck, to afraid to move forward but unable to go back. That I buried myself behind the football field, but that I simply can't bring myself to dig back out and I'm suffocating.

Idk what I really want. I know I have some goals, body wise. But it's so hard to stay in shape and things like bottom surgery, FFS, etc are expensive.

My GF I've been dating a couple years and I have just bought a house. She has already been getting hair removal so she can get bottom surgery. She also wants top surgery and FFS.

Our other GF wants bottom surgery but otherwise feels fine for the time being.

I'd rather numb myself out and just help them reach their goals and then, some years down the line, I can maybe attempt something? Idk.

I know this is me being self sacrificial, just like I was trained to be both as a child and for a decade as an adult. But idk what else to do. I want them happy.

I'm terrified because I felt like Owen to an extent. I've recognized I've got static in me, but I can't stop apologizing to everyone around me for taking up space.

Things still feel so unreal, though more real than they did pre hrt. I'm so afraid of every possibility and I want to scream and cry and beg and demand and hide and be seen and everything and so much more all at once.

Idk which scares me more. Staying stagnant and rotting. Finally letting myself go into the dark. Or finally clawing myself up and letting myself live.

I know I don't have to decide yet.

"there is still time"

[basicallyjaywalker]

Purpose

WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK.

WOE! ANGST BE UPON YE @captain-space-kin

Prompts: Kai, This December by Ricky Montgomery, poorly timed confessions

AO3 Link

Fic also under cut!

A light dusting of snow covered the purple hyacinths and lavender flowers left on the base of Zane’s statue. It was odd for Ninjago City to get snow this early into spring, especially when the flowers were already blooming. Kai would have liked to think that it was Zane sending them a message, but he knew that wasn’t true. Zane was gone.

How long had it been since they lost him? Kai stopped keeping track a month in. Thinking about it didn’t help, that just brought back the twisting dagger in his gut, a reminder of how he failed him. 

Pixal would say something smart to that. She always acted like she had the answer to everything. She and Kai had gotten close since the funeral, becoming a kind of odd couple. Pixal was one of the few people Kai still talked to regularly. He’d fallen off with Cole and Jay almost immediately after the funeral. Lloyd and Nya stuck around for a while, but after he stopped visiting Garmadon’s monastery, he stopped talking to Lloyd and only saw Nya every few weeks. Pixal was the only one he saw every day, usually meeting her during the singular break she took from work. 

Since Zane died, Pixal threw herself into her work. Not only did she assist Cyrus, she devoted her time to some “independent project” she wouldn’t tell Kai about. Despite her secrecy, he was sure it had to do with Zane. 

He took a deep breath, trying to smell the sweet scent of spring from the flowers in front of him. All he came up with was bitter cold. 

---

He met Pixal outside that evening. Her breaks were always late, but this was later than normal. The sun was setting and the neon lights of Ninjago City glowed along with the cool white light of streetlamps. The pair sat in the alley next to Borg Tower, away from the streets bustling with people who just got off work and were excited to head home. This wasn’t Kai’s ideal location. He hated being near Borg Tower, but Pixal said she wasn’t able to go out this time, so Kai went anyway. He liked seeing her more than he hated being around that place, he supposed. 

In her lap, Pixal held one of the packed lunches that came from the building’s cafeteria. Though Pixal always brought food out on her break, Kai never saw her eat. Usually, she just gave it to him, figuring he hadn’t eaten all day. Usually, she was right, too. 

At least the food was good.

They were quiet. Conversations between them took a moment to start. A few minutes spent in the raw silence, listening to the whirr of engines on the roads, the murmuring of crowds on phones, the occasional caw of birds flying from one pole or building to another, then they would begin. Pixal would bring up some benign aspect of her work or Kai would mention something he saw in a shop and they would continue from there. 

“Cyrus is working on a new model of the Borg Phone.”

“Again? Didn’t the last one just come out?”

“Indeed. I believe he is trying to keep spirits up while we all work on getting back to normal.”

“Seems like things already are,” murmured Kai, watching the crowds navigate the streets nearby, most of their heads bowed and pushing past everyone else to get home faster.

Pixal watched with him, resting her head against the cement wall. She sighed. “Perhaps it is just us who are stuck.”

“What do you mean?”

“It has been almost four weeks since the funeral. Twenty-six days. And yet, we are still…” She tried to find the words.

“Mourning?” Kai supplied.

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Eh, it’s not abnormal. Not like the others seem to be handling it any better. Nya says Lloyd just helps his dad teach classes, otherwise he’s in his room. She’s kept working on her own projects, upgrading the SamX suit. I haven’t seen Cole or Jay since the funeral.”

Pixal hummed. “I saw something interesting the other day on the news. There are rumors Jay’s getting a TV show.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “Maybe he’s moved on. Maybe Cole has too, just in a less… public way.”

Kai was quiet. He tried to take it in. His teammates were off doing their own things now. Lloyd was teaching, taking up the mantle of his uncle and father. Jay was starting a new TV show, likely about to put his over-the-top personality to use. Cole had run off, just like he’d done when Master Wu first found him. Even Nya found purpose in her alter ego. And he was… where exactly? Kai couldn’t think of anything he’d done in the past few weeks, besides leave a bouquet of now frosted flowers on Zane’s grave. His days were spent aimlessly wandering from park to park, place to place. Sometimes he found himself drifting to the underbelly of the city, but he could never bring himself to do it. 

He had Pixal. She was someone he could count on. Visiting her every day, even if it was only for thirty short minutes between her own work, her own purpose, it kept him afloat.

Kai felt himself jolt up from where he’d gotten into his own comfy position on the wall, dropping the piece of falafel that was halfway to his mouth when he started his digression. A bit of the tahini sauce in the plastic container jumped back out and hit his shirt. 

Then he noticed Pixal looking at him. “Is everything alright?”

Kind of. This was not the realization Kai needed to be having right now. He was barely over the first one which hit him over the head during his eulogy at Zane’s funeral. 

Now shaking, Kai took a napkin out and wiped the small stain off his shirt, paying more attention to it than needed. His brain whirred. She kept him afloat. He was here because of her. 

“Kai?”

“I’m alright, I’m okay.” He really needed to work on his lying skills. 

“I don’t believe you are. Please, are you thinking about Zane now?” 

“No- well, yes, but no-”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m thinking about you,” he blurted and before he could stop himself he said, “You’re my world.”

Her watch went off. She frowned and stood. “I’m sorry, Kai. I have to go. We’ll have to discuss this another time.”

“Wait, Pix--”

And then she was gone without a sound. Kai felt an anger bubbling up inside him. One he hadn’t felt in weeks. Not at Pixal, but himself. What was he thinking? He couldn’t come back tomorrow. He couldn’t come back at all. 

He grabbed his things and stood, fighting back the licks of flame that he could feel sparking up to the surface. There went his anchor, the last good thing in his life. Now he was the only one without purpose. 

He merged into the crowds, pulling up the hood of his jacket in an attempt to not be recognized. Not that anyone would. He was another face in the crowd. 

What could he do? He could try and find Nya, sob to her about everything, but then would he just drag her down too? His stomach was twisted in knots. What could he do? What could he do? 

The question kept repeating in his mind, looping as he wandered away from the crowds and the center of Ninjago City to the park again. He was back in front of Zane’s statue. The continuous flurry now covered the flowers he’d brought, leaving only a bit of pastel purple peeking out. Kai stared at it. He stared until it was covered completely by the snow. Then, he turned his back, stuffed his fists into his pockets, and walked away, knowing exactly where he was going. 

[plasticwaves]

i feel so busy yet not busy at all. i spend days writing (short stories; proposals; applications; a delayed dissertation in the library); spend three days a week at work; spend evenings out and yet - i rarely feel i have anything to show from it...

i spent last weekend at sundance london, i watched five films, including kinds of kindness, kneecap, etc. i saw the tv glow was the standout but for very personal reasons, and i'm not sure how it translates to people without an experience of dysphoria. i have thought about the film every day since i first watched it (six days ago); i think because i hadn't seen thoughts, feelings, private fears i've had illuminated on a screen like that before; it felt exposing, and claustrophobic, but also reassuring, but also i feel unsure how to move forward in light of it all. i feel like i need my friends to watch the film (though it is not out on UK release until mid-July, I think) so i can have an almost therapeutic conversation... i told H that i want my body to not be this body, that if i could - i would - but that i think it's too late for me to make any real changes (hence my subtle non-binary hrt micro-dosages that may or may not have an effect beyond the psychological) (though H swears i look different since). the idea of it being too late is the entire third act of the film so hence, the feeling of being seen, and the devastation / beauty of that.

my birthday is in two weeks exactly. and for the first time since high school i will be in the place i live for it (i have always managed to be outside of london even if just for a day trip somewhere) and H is planning a birthday picnic / get-together for me, which is one of the most loving gestures i've received but also i feel vulnerable, because i have so few friends? or at least i have so few close friends. so many just... people i know? i used to blame this on not having a home town / moving around countries growing up. but i've been in london for almost... 14 years now (fuck) and there may only be like 3 other friends besides us at the picnic (vs one of these 3 friends who is having a birthday the week before and has 60 guests?!). i feel embarrassed and i know i lost years as an unpaid carer and my world got smaller and i've only been rebuilding it in the last 18 months but still. in mexico, i found it so easy to make friends, to make such intimate, instant connections, it felt so validating, but it feels so hard to translate that here. and it's not like i don't go out. yesterday, i played football with the queer team i'm part of, the day before i went to a pub quiz with a friend, i go to the community garden once a week, and tonight i have a poetry workshop, and in the near future a dance class, and on and on and on. busy yet not busy. social yet not social, and on and on and on.

all of this ^ reminds me of an exposing realisation i had in my therapy last year, which is that my past two relationships (H and J) have been with people i knew initially from tumblr. and that these relationships have been the strongest of my life. that dating apps never worked. nor did meeting people in real life ever offer anything besides brief romances or mild friendships. and that i thought perhaps it was because tumblr afforded me a space to be anonymous and so, for better or worse, i was my most genuine and authentic self on tumblr, that i could share my interests, my hopes, my innermost innermost, without shame / fearing judgment, that it didn't matter because i knew no-one on here (without my brain cutting me off like it would in real life, or without the voice in my head telling me to stay quiet, or shape myself to suit the person i was hanging out with), it was in effect a darkened confession booth, and when people saw that, saw me, and liked me still, it felt okay to be myself, to be vulnerable [as embarrassing as tumblr being my most effective yet accidental dating pool is] [i am still working on being that 'shameless' about my self with others and it is so much better than it was, even a year ago, but still, something sooner or later always gets caught when i try to speak] [a w-i-p]

other things in my life

i performed poetry at the barbican centre a couple weeks back (and performed for the first time in front of my parents - after first performing maybe seven years ago?) (and my dad, stereotypically repressed, kept saying how proud he was of me, and i can't remember if he has ever said that before]

my police station bail date was moved a month back, and my bail conditions might even be dropped ! [blocking your nearest immigration van soon]

the day after my birthday, H and I go away for almost three weeks and i can't wait. but at the same time, i am conscious of wanting to be as present as possible this summer.

[bloodmoon24]

how did feedback, Vox and n meet each other?

Well, picture this:

In the Ben 10 world, Grey Matter, Brainstorm, and Upgrade were building a machine that could travel to a different universe that’s not their own. Think of it kinda like the collider from SpiderVerse. Feedback was helping them power up their machine for extra energy. It was nearly complete, so all they have to do is to test it. Grey Matter looked at the screen of the machine and it showed that there are two different worlds opened along side theirs, showing a sign that it’s ready. But what they didn’t know was that the portal opened up and starts to suck in anything in sight. The others were holding on to anything they could find to not get sucked in, but sadly Feedback did, and as soon as he got through, the portal shut down

Feedback opened his eye and sees the sun shining down on him. He looked around and sees people he’d never seen before in his life. He almost confused them for other aliens, but they’re not quite. Some looked like humans, some looked like they could be aliens, some looked like demons, and he could’ve sworn he saw a robotic looking dinosaur all chained up to a wall, growling at people who comes by. He has no idea where he is, and has no idea what he should do. After a while of exploring the area, his antennas started picking up a strange radio signal from somewhere. He went to investigate by letting his antennas taking the lead of where to do. The signal was getting stronger, and stronger, and stronger every time he gets closer. And that is when he spotted them. A dark blue and cyan demon with a TV for a head, wearing clothes from the 1950’s and a robot boy with yellow eyes, a pilot hat, a trench coat, and a tail with a stinger at the end with a yellow glowing substance. Their names being Vox the Media Overlord and Serial Designation N, the Murder Drone

The three of them looked at each other with a surprised look. They’ve never seen anyone like them before. N though looked at the other two in amazement. He goes up to Vox, saying he’s never seen a drone like him before and asked who created him. Vox looked at him in confusion, and told him that he’s not a drone, but a TV Sinner, and that he always looked like this. N was super excited like he was a child who got a puppy or a new toy. Feedback was still unsure about the Sinner, but seeing how the Drone acts, he barely seen him as a threat. A part from his tail, which is something he should still keep an eye out.

So long story short, an experiment gone wrong and Feedback traveled to a different world and after exploring some of the places, he met N and Vox. And let me tell ya, it took them (mostly Vox and Feedback) a while to trust one another, but after spending weeks to a couple of months together, they started to become friends (but N sees the other two as big brothers)

I might make like a fun poster for them or something. We’ll see. And if you wanna try making your own context about ElectroSwing, feel free, but also to credit me when you do. But until then, have a nice day